Why a Raven is Like a Writing Desk
by hightoppsmadness
Summary: It's been four years since Alice left Underland for her, but it's been a decade for Underland. Now that she has returned, she and her favorite Hatter try to pick up the pieces, and survive the judgements of society. Rated M for instances of naughtyness. COMPLETE BOOK ONE
1. A lonely start

**Why a Raven is like a Writing Desk**

A fanfiction by Hightopp Madness

"**I**'ll be back before you know it."

"You won't remember me."

**M**irana gazed over her gardens in a quiet daze, reminiscing. Yes, Tarrant had been right, apparently.

For the first few years, he had actually believed her. They all had. She was Alice, after all. She could be late, but never absent. But as Time kept still, the years seemed to pass without notice. Except Tarrant's madness kept progressing.

After three Underland years, Tarrant held onto denial as the rest moved into acceptance. He left his smile on, but it was cracked. His sayings went from "She'll be back before I know it. I know she will!" to, "She promised she'll be back. She's just a little late. Naughty Alice... she promised me something you know..."

And as the tenth Underland year passed, his phrase was captured in tears and madness as he would sit stoically at the tea table, whispering the truth.

"She's not coming. She broke her promise to me and she's not coming and I should have made her stay why didn't I"-

"Hatta!" Mirana exclaimed at him. His madness, however, kept him babbling until the tears won the battle over his vocal cords. The he would silently move his lips, his eyes always a dreary gray. The color had faded gradually over the last decade.

Alice had broken him.

**A**lice sat by the willow in Hyde Park. She did this often, as often as she visited the Ascot's tree. Alice was crushed when she realized that the rabbit hole had been filled in. She idly wondered how much dirt that task had required. Her hand grazed the tips of the blades of grass, soft and still.

It was the color she loved the most, she supposed. It was the green hue. The hue of HIS eyes. The man whose name she never had a chance to learn. The man who she will never get to see again. The man she loved with all her heart, enough to give up any hope of being anything but a spinster.

In her world, it had been only four years. She had only come home to London about three months ago. No, not home, she thought. I will never be home, she lamented in her mind. Home was where HE was. Her crazy mad wonderful Hatter. A tear slipped off her cheek, and it landed into the grass as she imagined his face.

Oh God, she thought, it feels as if I am falling.

1

**A**nd that was the moment the rabbit hole reopened underneath her.


	2. The depressing truth

**S**he daresay the hole was even messier than before, as she flew past the random objects McTwisp had collected over the years. When she hit the floor of the Hall of Doors, she knew what to do.

But this time, the small door didn't open. In fact, the key only fit in the double doors next to it. Alice was frightened.

What if it didn't lead me to Underland? She thought. But she opened the doors anyway, figuring anywhere would be better than there. She gasped at where she was. She was standing in the gardens of Mamoreal, with the pink topped trees that sighed happily at her presence. This time, she slipped the key into her pocket, just in case she ever needed to get back here from London. She also hurried back into the Hall of Doors to collect the photograph album she had fallen with. She had brought it with her to the park, just in case.

She always did.

**I**t was brillig. Always the worst time of day, Mirana thought. It was when she would visit Tarrant. That was not to say she didn't like visiting him. She just hated what had become of her beloved Hatter.

Every brillig, she would sit with him for tea, and Tarrant would call her Alice, and was always sweet with her, until he realized that she wasn't Alice. That usually happened about ten minutes after. He would sob, and then the madness would take him. That was always the worst part.

He would throw the table and break the tea sets, crush the scones and throw the clotted cream. He would scream at her to get out. The reason he realized she wasn't Alice though, was the most heartbreaking thing of all.

She would correctly answer his riddles as she walked in on time.

But this day, she happened to plan to be a bit late, perhaps to keep Tarrant in his fantasy a bit longer. He was always happy when she was Alice. On this day, she flitted through her gardens on her way to the Hat-Workshop. And Mirana saw the strangest thing.

She saw Alice.

**A**lice was clutching her album to her chest, as her eyes lay upon the White Queen, racing towards her in an almost ungraceful manner. Almost.

"Alice!" she breathlessly cried, "you've returned to us! And you're all ready to be presented, and- and - and you're wearing PROPER clothing!"

Ah, Alice mused, she noticed the stockings and corset.

"Your Majesty, it's been too long." Alice smiled, ignoring the comment on her attire.

"No time for formalities, you've got to come with me. I'll catch you up on the way."

**M**irana grabbed Alice's arm and tugged her along.

As they neared the actual castle, the White Queen slowed her pace a bit.

"What is the matter?" Alice side glanced Mirana.

"Tarrant- er- the Hatter. He's not seen you in a decade, Alice. You broke your promise. And him. That's why you don't break promises to people in Underland, Alice, it breaks whoever you break the promise to. You need to be with him. Fix him. Any small thing, really. He really needs you."

As the two reached the Hat-Workshop door, Mirana pulled Alice close and whispered: "Don't cry if he yells. That just makes it worse."


	3. Gray filled eyes

**A**lice entered quietly, as if she were visiting a friend on their deathbed- or a corpse falling to bits. She saw immediately that had been the correct course of action.

Tarrant was still milky white, but his hair had become less bouncy, matted and tangled in a most unpleasant manner, as if he hadn't the mind to wash it without help, which she doubted he had any often. His back was to her, as he gazed out the balcony. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking. He was quietly weeping, she realized.

"Alice is so late, I'm afraid," his quivering lisped voice startled her. "You don't have to pretend to be her for me anymore, Your Majesty. I know she's not coming back. It dawned on me this morning as I woke up from the dream again. You know the dream, don't you? I tell you about it every time I pretend you are Alice" his voice hitched at her name. "The dream where she comes back and tells me she's staying because she wants to, for me. For the love I know she will never show, or see, or even admit to herself. She's probably forgotten me by now. Probably married, with a child perhaps. It's been ten years, after all. Why would she want to? Why would someone as lovely as Alice want to come back to a place she can't recall? To an old, odd, mad Hatter?"

He had not turned to face her, but Alice heard the brogue in his voice to know that he was angry, bitter, sad, lonely, and in desperate need of some muchness to overcome the madness.

"Hatter," she whispered. "Hatter, HATTER. TARRANT! For the love of God, Tarrant!"

She grabbed his arm and spun him around. The stains on his eyelids were deep blue, with tear stains punctuating them.

"Oh... Hatter," Alice lamented, but a grin spread across Tarrant's face.

"Oh, Alice! You've finally come back!" he beamed. "You're back and you'll never leave me again and it will be a glorious day of futterwhacken indeed!"

"Hatter!" Alice gripped his arm a bit tighter.

"I'm fine."

They stared at each other a moment, and Alice saw the flurry of emotions quickly shift, but the color of his eyes worried her. They were muted, with gray tinging them.

"**H**atter," Alice met his depressing gaze. "I've only been gone four years in my world. I'm so sorry. They filled the rabbit hole."

Tarrant frowned at that, then started looking into the distance, in a fun train of thought. "I wonder how much soil that took..." Hatter grinned his gap tooth smile. It still seemed a bit broken, but Alice was confident that one day it would become whole.

"Hatter."

"Tarrant, please Alice. Call me Tarrant." he pleaded softly.

"Alright, Tarrant... where are you staying?"

"Here of course! I'll show you to my sitting room. We can talk. I... I didn't have the mind to make any tea today. I'm sorry." Tarrant's hand gestured over the tea table, empty and clean.

Better empty than with everything broken, she thought. But Alice did find it surprising that he had the room in such order. It seemed... unlived in. Unused. It unsettled her. All things that started with the letter U.


	4. The album of dreamers

**H**is sitting room was better, or should Alice refer to it as a raging colorful messy space? All the walls were white, but the furniture- the furniture was definitely her Hatter's. No, not her Hatter, THE Hatter, she mentally corrected herself. The bright colors and tea sets with all different sorts of hats littered about the room.

The sight made Alice smile, and Tarrant caught sight of it. His stomach filled with bread-and-butter flies, but they soon disappeared when his eyes laid upon the large book in her arms.

"Alice." Tarrant lightly touched its cover. "What is this?"

"Oh," Alice held it in her lap as she sat on a bright teal couch. "It's my photo album. I happened to bring it with me, so I can show you my adventures."

"This is lovely." his hand grazed the cover title: Memories.

When she opened the book, Tarrant was amazed to see the photographs.

"These aren't illustrations. Alice, what are these beautiful things? I realize this is an album of sorts, but I have never seen art like this!"

The pictures had no color, but they entranced Tarrant anyway.

"Of course you haven't, you silly!" Alice giggled. "This is a photo album. It holds pictures I took in my travels that I have wanted to show you for some time now."

Aruba seemed to give Tarrant the best ideas. A picture of exotic birds in flight particularly enticed him.

"That gives me an idea for a beautiful hat!" Tarrant crowed, and Alice giggled like she used to when she was a little girl.

When he turned the page, eager for more inspiring art that Alice had brought, he noticed she shifted a little uneasily, especially when his eyes caught sight of the little girl in the picture.

4

**S**he was small and blonde, with wide doe- eyes that looked on the brink of crying. She was sitting at a small tea table, an imaginary tea party as it were. There was a stuffed animal in her lap that looked eerily like Chessur. As Tarrant's gaze focused in, he noticed that Chess wasn't the only Underland citizen in the picture. A porcelain doll with similar eyes and wavy white hair wore a winter white dress on the girl's left, a velveteen hare in a ragged waistcoat and crazed looking button eyes on her right. A white stuffed mouse was on the tabletop, propped up with a large hatpin, and at the head of the small table, Tarrant saw himself.

The hat looked just like his, but smaller. The doll had large green button eyes, with an orange ring around the right one. It had white skin, and was complete with bright orange hair and a sewn gap tooth smile. It's ascot was big and fluffy, and he noticed it was following his fashion exactly, down to the spools of thread draped across his chest.

"Who is that, Alice?" he lisped perfectly as he tapped the photo with his finger.

"That's my niece,... Mirana," Alice hesitated. "I got to name her, so I chose the name of our queen."

Tarrant felt hope at the word 'our' meaning she'd stay, that she followed his queen, THEIR queen-

"Hatter," Alice murmured.

"I'm fine."

"Mirana is curious, like I am." Alice continued explaining once his eyes focused again.

"She has seen Underland in her dreams. She is especially fond of you and Chessur. I made the two of you, and she insisted she sew the button eyes on, as well as your hat. The doll maker had trouble finding the right shade of white, though. She's quite insistent on having details correct."

"Alice, are you staying here?" Tarrant abruptly asked, the panic starting to come back to him. "Of course you aren't, you have a lovely home there, and you're probably not even here, just another hallucination. I'm really going mad you know. Around the bend, bonkers, off my head."

"Hatter!"

"I'm fine," Tarrant wheezed the lie, and Alice realized that she was to blame for his bouts of madness, that she had seriously damaged him.

"Hatter, I'm really here. And I'm staying here. Mirana has a mother. I am not needed there, and I can tell you need me more than ever."

Alice placed her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it, like a cat.

"Alice," Tarrant leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Call me Tarrant. It would make me so very happy."

"Alright, Tarrant then."

Tarrant's eyes brightened in color, the grey slowly fading away.

"Tarrant, where shall I sleep tonight?"

"Please don't leave me," he pleaded, "I won't forgive myself if I wake up in the

5

**M**orning and you aren't there."

Rain started pouring, and they turned their attention to the window. Even when it was rainy, it was beautiful and cheerful in Mamoreal. Alice noticed the time, and decided to change the subject.

"It's almost time for supper," Alice stood up and led Tarrant to the door, "Let's go see Mirana."


	5. Dinner for disasters

As they walked down the corridors to the dining hall, Alice had her hand on Tarrant's offered arm, and he was on cloud nine. Alice was here, she had kept her promise, her promise to HIM! She came back for HIM, she chose him over her own niece, even though the little Mirana already had a mother, but still, he would never be lonely again, because she would always be by his side, and he would always be by hers, and he could feel the weight of the promise ring in his picket, the ring he had made for her YEARS ago, which he always carried just in case, and-

"Tarrant," Alice beamed at him. His mind had been wandering and he hadn't noticed they had arrived.

The table was long, white, glorious... and almost full of the White Queen's court. McTwisp hopped over to announce them.

"Presenting Royal Hatter Hightopp, and Champion Alice," he huffed and went back to his place. Tarrant felt sorry for him for having to do that for every person that entered the room.

Mirana breathlessly called to them, beaming the whole while. They followed her to the head of the table, to the queen's left. They sat side by side, and immediately murmurs erupted.

"What kind of intentions would he have towards our champion?"

"He's just a mad milliner!"

"How could our champion choose someone so...mad?"

The words stung and suddenly Tarrant wasn't feeling so social. Alice noticed his reaction, and placed her hand on his, rubbing her thumb against the back of his stained hand. The motion was soothing, and soon Tarrant's wild panicked eyes settled to a pale green, close enough to be reassuring while still off enough to showcase his unease.

Alice looked at him and felt a feeling, one that sent goose flesh through her body, and yet warmed her to a dangerous degree. The blush on her cheeks was endearing, and she felt it odd that all of the talk had stopped. She looked at Mirana and found she was standing to speak.

"Dear friends, we are here to celebrate the return of Alice, who so quickly has brought us back the joy of our wondrous Hatter, Mr. Hightopp. Now, please feast, and later we shall enjoy a dance! I am looking forward to seeing the joy of it all!"

Mirana sat down, and the food was brought out by frog butlers.

**A**lice had never seen anything quite like it. The frog butlers brought and offered edibles, and people would pluck what they wanted from the trays and place it on their plates. Alice wasn't very hungry, but she noticed Tarrant didn't have much either, and she leaned close to him.

"Are you nervous?" she whispered, and Tarrant nodded. "Would it make you feel better if we shared a plate?" she offered, and he nodded hesitantly.

Alice gently rolled what little food she had onto her Hatter's- no, THE Hatter's- plate. Tarrant then slipped the plate between them, and they started eating, much to the chagrin of the rest of the court. Sharing a plate just wasn't done, especially in a public function. The murmuring began again, but it was cut off abruptly when Mirana glared at the gossiping group.

The White Queen saw the immediate bod between them, and knew that they would breathe new life into Underland. How dare the courtiers object to a bright future!

Alice and Tarrant were very content in the silence, mirthful to be honest. Alice peered at Tarrant, and got a crazy, mad, WONDERFUL idea. She poked her fork and stabbed a puff of spinach that she noticed both she and Tarrant had chosen, and lifted the fork to Tarrant's mouth.

"Open wide," she giggled, and her Hatter- yes, HER Hatter- mirthfully obliged.

She leaned close, and whispered in his ear. "Is it good?"

Tarrant was so nervous, he almost choked on the puff, but he managed to swallow it, albeit whole, but he swallowed it all the same. With a chagrin filled expression, he smiled sheepishly and answered with a nod.

A gasp rang out as the scene was observed by the court. A woman dressed in ivory leaped up from her seat and pointed.

"Impropriety!" she yelled in a terrible attempt at a stage whisper. "This is an outrage!" her finger started to shake, followed closely by the rest of her in anger. "I see no courtship ring, nor do I see any hope marks! All I see is a harlot of a champion and a vulgar milliner."

"ENOUGH!" Mirana stood, her voice ringing with authority.

Tears in Alice's eyes started to force their way out, and Tarrant glared at the woman as he wrapped his arm protectively around Alice.

"This has to stop!" the White Queen had figuratively put her big- girl bloomers on, and was on a roll. "Champion Alice and Royal Hatter Hightopp are precious people of my court, and I will NOT let you hurt them, ESPECIALLY not here at my table! Have you not considered they might be contemplating courtship? Perhaps, since Alice has only arrived today at brillig, Tarrant is waiting for a good moment to do so? Or perhaps, my dear friends, they are trying to make each other secure from your awful, disgusting gossip! Have you forgotten what the beginnings of true love felt like?"

The echos bounced off the pearly white walls, and silence rang out afterwards for a few moments. Mirana went back to her breathless, happy self.

"**A**lright. Now that is settled, so we shall put the ball for Alice's arrival off until tomorrow evening. Fairfarren, all, and please have a good night." She waved her hand airily, and the courtiers rose from the table and lightly slunk away.

Mirana kept Alice and Tarrant with her.

"Alice. It's been a while since I've seen you. How long will you be staying?" As Mirana asked, Alice felt Tarrant tense up.


	6. Sleepless in silence

"Well, since I'm here, I guess as long as I can have a home here."

"Excellent! So forever it is then!" Tarrant had been praying for that answer, and he scooped up Alice and twirled her around, and Mirana squealed in happiness and clapped enthusiastically.

"You will always have a home here, Alice," Tarrant lightly placed her down and took her hands in his.

Alice looked up and was enraptured by the brilliant green of his eyes. Alice believed everything, because those eyes FELT like home. They felt like a snuggle to wake up, tea at brillig, laughs over hats, endless riddles, and love filled kisses. They felt like the Hatter himself. She blushed at the thought of his kisses.

"Well, I guess it is time for me to show you to your quarters," Mirana interrupted the moment, and took Alice's hand from Tarrant, and he closely followed,

They quietly made their way through the hallways and corridors, until they stood before a sky blue door. The door was very familiar to Alice...

"Hey, this is right next to my rooms!" Tarrant mused happily, and Mirana nodded.

"I want someone she knows near her if she needs anything. Fairfarren and Sweet dreams!" she waved and gracefully slipped away.

"Well, goodnight, sweet Champion," Tarrant smiled as he rubbed the top of her head, messing it up affectionately. "I should make you a hat..."

"Tomorrow," Alice assured him and placed her finger upon his lips. "I shall see you in the morning."

**I**t was near midnight, and Alice was still awake. She remembered she left her photo album in Tarrant's room, and she was wanting to look at the pictures of her father in the back of it. That always helped her sleep.

She finally climbed out of the teal velvet four- poster bed and slipped on her borrowed nightdress. She never liked to sleep with it on, for it always bunched up around her in her sleep, but she knew how bad it would look if anyone saw her leave his room in just her bloomers. She did have her limits.

As she slipped out of her quarters, she stepped into the silent hall. Alice regretted not putting on slippers immediately. Cold white marble floors had no heat, and as Alice padded down the stairs, her feet began to numb.

First, she grabbed a blanket from a huge linen closet downstairs, then padded back in

**t**he direction of her room. But she passed it to stand before the beautiful hat handled doors. She quietly opened one, and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. His sitting room was dark, but Alice saw her photo album was missing.

She padded over to the bedroom, and reveled in the joy of warm plush green carpeting. Honestly, she found this room the most wondrously colored room in the castle. Hat fabrics lined the walls, covering the monotonous white. Feathers poofed from drawers, hat pins poked out of several large pincushions, and ribbons hung from everything. On his night stand lay his beloved hat, and next to it was her album.

Alice noticed a small piece of parchment on it, and she read it.

-_D__on't forget to give Alice her album in the morning!_

Alice was touched. He was planning on returning it to her personally. Curiously, she looked over to see his face.

His wild bright orange hair spread out on the pillow, and even covered part of his face. She brushed it out of the way. The blankets were tangled about him, and Alice caught sight of his milky white skin with a hint of bright orange hair on his chest. He was breathing slowly and evenly, but there was cold sweat upon his brow, and Alice wiped it off with her blanket, then sweetly tried to untie his legs from the sheets, but he rolled over, taking her with him.

Alice froze, and she felt the Hatter stir beneath her. She started to panic. What would he think of her on top of him in his sleep? Her eyes cut to his face, which was serene, save for the wild eyebrows on him. Strangely, she couldn't imagine him any other way. But then he started moving, and he awoke.


	7. Well now Cream pitchers indeed

**T**arrant had been having a rough dream since his head hit the pillow in his colorful room. He had taken a peek at the back of the album, and was surprised to find a picture of her father. He could tell it was her father because beside him was Alice at the age she had been when she had first entered Underland. But he turned to the very last page and found a hand painted picture of himself.

It was painted by Alice herself, and he saw every detail of his face painted with love and with care. He then closed the book and laid it down after scribbling himself a reminder to return said album to his beloved Alice. But the dream he had was outrageous, and more than a little embarrassing.

It started off in the Hat-Workshop, where he was making an elegant garden hat for the White Queen. He sighed, because white just got boring after a while. Blue was much more exciting, he decided. Then Alice had arrived. She was wearing a French styled off- the- shoulder dress, in a lovely shade of Alice Blue, and Tarrant began to believe that shoulders could be very alluring. The slight freckles upon them made him think of him sitting outside with her, and he admitted to himself that he liked the thought.

Alice, or should he say Dream- Alice, was the same as real Alice in every way, even in

**T**he new features he had noticed that had undergone change in the four Otherworld years.

Her hips had widened, swaying slightly as she walked and moved towards him, a blush upon her face with slightly parted plump lips- perhaps he was considering things that started with the letter P.

Her eyes wore that deep brown he loved so much, as they reminded him of snuggles, and chocolate, and cozy nights by the fire-

"Tarrant," she breathed.

"I'm fine." how frustrating that even in his dreams he had bouts of babbling madness.

She laid her hands on his chest, and he dropped his tools as he noticed the swell of her newly fully grown breasts, and he discovered he LIKED noticing these. They were pressed to him, and he felt their weight.

"Alice, your cream pitchers are very heavy."

**A**lice almost yelped when the Hatter's hands started roaming her. She blushed furiously as she discovered she very much liked this touch, and she suddenly wished for him to wake.

His right hand grazed her bottom, and she moaned low. When his left hand grabbed hold of one of her breasts, she arched as he said

"Alice, your cream pitchers are very heavy."

The movement she had made had woken him from his VERY pleasant dream, but what he awoke to was even better. There, in his arms, was a real Alice on top of him in the bed. His green eyes went wide, and he gazed into her shocked brown eyes intensely. He then got an idea. A crazy mad wonderful idea.

"Alice," he smiled slyly at her, "trying to seduce me in my sleep. Naughty."

"N-No no! I... I wasn't trying to do anything like that!" she floundered to get off, but she just got caught up in the sheets, stuck in the bed with him.

"Alright, I believe you," he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive spot on her neck. "But I want to know. Do you find me...loveable? Attractive? Or am I just a friend to you?"

Tarrant's questions threw Alice off. "Of course you're more than a friend to me, Tarrant! I find myself so incredibly lonely without you! I missed you terribly! I... I..." she started to tear up, and her wonderful Hatter figured out what she was saying.

"I love you too, Alice. More than anything." his eyes turned a deeper green, and Alice blushed as her unshed tears started to disappear.

"Hatter?"

"Please, Alice, my given name."

"Sorry, Tarrant. It's hard to get used to a new name. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for waking you up. I was trying to cover you up with the sheets." She blushed a deeper red. "I must seem... wanton to you, for being so bold."

"**N**o my dearest Alice, you had just given me a good opportunity to admit my love for you, and to tease you a bit, I admit. Have I made a rhyme? Never mind. Now, were you having trouble sleeping?"

Alice nodded like a child.

"Well, I can't very well send you away. You might as well stay here." Tarrant smiled sweetly.

Alice rolled next to him, kicking off the binding blankets beside her.

"Tomorrow, you should be prepared. We'll be going into town. Stay close to me, because there are still some people who are wary of your presence. Not all of Underland is good, not yet. Plus... I... have a reputation there that could keep... erm, undesirable company away."

"Alright. I'm looking forward to it." Alice curled her body towards Tarrant and laid her head on his bare chest. "Goodnight, Tarrant."

"Goodnight... my Alice."


	8. The walk of shame

**T**he morning daylight shined through the window, and Tarrant Hightopp, the last of the Hightopp Clan, opened his eyes to the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on.

There, on his bare white chest, was Alice, HIS Alice, with her golden hair splayed all around her. The sheets had once again fallen away to reveal that her nightgown had gathered around her midriff, showing off her light blue bloomers.

He pulled the blankets back up, and she snuggled in closer. Tarrant could smell the lilacs and daises' scents from the soaps she used last night, and could see the reflection of the sun in the shine of her curled tresses. Truly, she was a Champion. After all, she had effortlessly conquered his heart.

He felt as if he was forgetting something though. Something important, routine, actually...

"Hello, Laird Hightopp? Ahm here ta run yer bath! Please wake up"

His eyes flew wide open as the maid opened the door to his bedroom. She looked around and her eyes locked on him, and he could feel her shock as she noticed the half-naked woman in his bed.

"Per'aps now is a bad tyme..." she started to back away.

"Actually," Tarrant was too sleepy for embarrassment, "can you quickly bring me one of Champion Alice's dresses? I need to get her ready for going into town."

**W**hen Alice allowed her eyes to open, she awoke to find Tarrant guiding her to a bath.

"Good morning, my dearest. It's time to get ready for town." he got her undressed as courteously as possible, keeping his eyes averted while he placed her gently in the bubble covered water. He then brought in a light blue French style dress, on that accentuated all of

**H**er lovely curves. "The maid brought me this from your chambers. Let me know if you need anything else."

Alice nodded, and he left the door cracked. She scrubbed herself until she was satisfied, and dried herself with a bath sheet she found nearby. It was long, dark blue, and was monogrammed TH in large filigree lettering.

She put on her new clean bloomers and noticed there were no stockings or a corset. Just the dress, bloomers, and a chemise. He already knows me so well, she smiled at the thought. She hoped eventually she would know all about him as well.

She walked out of the bathroom, forgetting the dress to ask for his help putting it on, when she spied him getting dressed.

He was pulling on his trousers over his breeches, his shirt unbuttoned and showing off the bright orange curls on his chest and in a little stripe that lead down into his breeches. She tried not to think about where the stripe ended. He had just buttoned his trousers when he caught sight of her, and he suddenly had the urge to remove them once more.

He resisted the temptation, and made himself button his shirt, though he did it crookedly, and he hadn't noticed until he ran out of buttons to button with three buttonholes left.

"Here, let me help you," Alice giggled softly, and walked over with a smile, undid his mistake, starting from the bottom button and working her way up.

Her towel fell, and they both gasped in shock, because of course, the maid returned to help Alice with her dress at that moment.

"Oh dear!" she cried, "Ahlice, deary, please com away from 'im, and put on some clothes for th' love o' white!"

**T**he day that had started so awkwardly had not improved by breakfast. In fact, things had gotten even worse. It turned out that the maid had gossiped her little heart out, and everywhere Tarrant and Alice went, they were either met with glares, giggles, or averted eyes and blushes.

By the time they had gotten to the stables, Alice was fed up with the poor treatment.

"Why do they hate us, Tarrant? Why are WE the ones in scandal?" she stomped her foot on the hard packed earth.

"Because you're a champion," muttered Tarrant, "and I'm a milliner."

He tightened the saddle on the horse and introduced Alice to the horse, a mare by the name of Ellis.

Ellis was a kind horse, but loved to gossip, and so her voice was soon unwelcome, as Alice heard words that cut her deep like a knife.

As they arrived to town, they sent Ellis off to graze, and Tarrant took Alice into the community. She soon discovered why he wanted her close.

The town of Glencoe was teeming with drunks, murderers, drug dealers, and

**G**amblers. And almost every man leered at her with hungry eyes.

"Tarrant?"

"This is the only way to get to the actual shops. And don't look at them. It encourages them..."

He pulled her closer, and the men began to stay a distance from them. Alice had the distinct feeling they feared Tarrant, which worried her greatly. But her thoughts were soon shifted when they reached the market place.

It was bustling and bright, with cheerful people all around. As Alice looked about, she noticed the women gathering around them... or Tarrant, more specifically.

He looked stressed and distraught as he looked about him.

"Oooh, the melancholy milliner is back!" one screeched, and they giggled, the sound of wind chimes.

"Beh gone, harlots," he growled, his Outlandish accent making itself present. "I've nae use fer yeh!"

They stopped laughing and turned their attention to Alice.

"Ah, THIS must be his alluring Alice, the ultimate woman!" the red haired woman in the crowd sneered. "Come away, ladies. He has what he needs. We'll not degrade ourselves here."

They left, but Alice still felt the fury from the woman's comment. "Tarrant, how do those... WHORES know you? What have you been doing while I was away?"

He shifted, and Alice could almost cry.

"I... I would pay them, not for debauchery, but for conversation. I would lament about you're absence, and they would tell me about themselves." he smiled crookedly. "No one can match Alice anyway."


	9. A girl after a Hatter's own heart

"Oh, well, alright." Alice looked away. She felt so guilty for suspecting him to have done... unspeakable things. "I'm sorry... For getting mad at you, I mean. It was jealousy, I suppose."

"No reason to, darling Alice." he squeezed her hand lightly. "I will always belong to you."

"And I to you," Alice beamed at him.

They reached the bazaars, and Alice skipped from his grasp. He half expected her to look at the shiny necklaces at the jewelry stall, but instead she headed for the millinery, gazing at the fabrics in wonder. A woman after his own heart.

He approached her from behind, and again he felt the weight of the ring he put in his pocket earlier. But now was not the right time. It wasn't perfect enough. So instead he looked at the fabrics she lingered on. Blue silk, brown velvet, white ribbons, and green chiffon. The exact green, he noted, of his eyes.

She had found the fabrics fascinating, the way they felt, the shades they varied in, the designs in some of them. But her favorite was the green chiffon, with magenta ribbons and a white peacock feather hat pin.

**A**fter she went to get Ellis, Tarrant had them purchased along with an emerald hat pin and magenta velvet for lining, and wrapped them quickly before Alice came back.

Thankfully, the field was nearby, so she avoided harassment, but he assumed Ellis had a talking to, because the ride back was quiet of all gossip.

"So, you got enough fabrics for your hats?" Alice asked sweetly.

"I did, and by tonight I should have a masterpiece ready for its soon to be wearer." he grinned his gap- tooth smile, an idea forming in his mind already.

As they approached Mamoreal, they saw the beginnings of the ball preparations. Fairy lights were strewn all over the castle, casting a faint light over the grounds. As the sun was setting, it made the sky glow in all of its pink glory. Alice snuggled against Tarrant's back as they entered Mamoreal's gates. What a wonderful evening, Tarrant thought.


	10. Have some faith, there's plenty to share

**M**irana planned everything to be perfect. The fairy lights were arranged, the orchestra was busy polishing their instruments, and the food was being prepared by her cook Thakery, with supervision by Mallymkin.

"So, Tarrant is going to ask for courtship, hmm?" a familiar smile appeared from the smoke, bringing a similar smile to Mirana's face.

"Yes, tonight. So we must make sure everything goes well for them. I want to be positive that Tarrant and Alice will be happy."

"Alice has not been here long. A day and one half, if I am not mistaken?" The Cheshire Cat fully formed and twirled in the air before the White Queen, not waiting for an answer. "Of course, she's been pining after Tarrant and vice versa for years now. I guess things are just falling into place."

"Of course," Mirana gave a little chuckle, waving her hand daintily. Chess dimmed his smile to the point of almost a frown for a forever smiling cat, his eyes dilating.

"I know you, Mirana," he leaned close to her suddenly serious face. "Don't rush them. I know that you're trying to help things along, but let things take their natural course. Just because the Orraculum said th-"

"-Do NOT tell me what the Orraculum says!" Mirana quietly snapped. "They must start planning their wedding before the eleventh Fabjous Day Anniversary, or- or Stayne."

"Stayne will come anyway." Chess patted her shoulder. "As long as they are near each other, he won't be successful. Have faith in that. Weddings or not, they love each other. Now please excuse me, for I have a sweet hat to visit..." with that, Chess poofed back to smoke.

"Please let him be right."

Tarrant was pacing his rooms, his kilt swaying around his knees. He was nervous- who wouldn't be in his dilemma? Alice- his sweet, curious Alice- had come back for him just the day before. He was going to ask her hand, and he had so much to give her- not monetarily, no, he was a hatter, even if he was to the Queen- but in support, love, caring, and always giving his time and happiness. But what if she wouldn't have him? What if she had decided to return to London? To that horrid Hamish fellow who had asked her hand last time she was running here? WHAT-

"Tarrant."

"I'm fine," he wheezed, and his orange eyes faded green. For once, he was happy to see his acquaintance Chessur, in all of his evaporating glory.

"Tarrant, trust me. She will say yes of course. She was born to love you, and you to love her. Have some faith," Chess rested on his favorite hat, Tarrant's top hat.

The Hatter set his visage to a resolute state, gripped the ring in his hand, and strolled from his rooms, brushing away Chess and handing him a feather, which Chess thoroughly enjoyed.

**A**lice was suspicious. When they had arrived to the castle, the courtiers were kinder, almost as if they knew something would happen that would please them. When Alice had stopped by the kitchens to visit, Thakery was twitchier than usual.

"Thakery, what troubles you?" she dove for the floor as a soup ladle flew towards her.

"Courtships! They be nottin' bu' trouble!" he giggled. "...pot."

"Nothing but trouble? Whatever do you mean?"

"They make a mahn so hopeful, then when Ahlice leaves fo' London, then 'e'll be crushed!" He glared fiercely, more lucid than Alice had ever seen him.

"What?" Alice was so, so... twitterpated at this.

"Go now! Ge' yehself ready fo' th' nigh'!" Thakery expelled her from the kitchen in a storm of tea cups.

She paced the rooms she was given, lost in thought, when Mallymkin arrived to the rooms.

"Right, you look a full sorrah mess, ye do!" she grumped as usual.

"Oh, hello Mally. It's been an awfully long time, hasn't it?" Alice mused, and Mallymkin pricked her with the hatpin sword Mally always carried.

"Come on now. We gots to get you lookin' somethin' proper." she pushed Alice as best she could for a dormouse into the drawn bath, which was tepid now, and tried to start scrubbing Alice. "We don't want you messin' up your own day, now do we?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothin' deary. Jus' tha' today is the you'll be announced as Lady Alice," Mally said as she rushed through Alice's bath, then set about finding her some good underclothes.

She set a silk white pair of bloomers with matching chemise, stockings and... corset.


	11. Family functions and a ring to a belle

Author's note: this is a big chapter, not in length, but importance! ...I feel a bit sad for corsets, though. No one seems to like them.

"I don't like corsets." Alice frowned.

"It'll be good for you Ahlice." Mally insisted. "No need for more gossip, righ'?"

After all was said and done, Alice was in a beautiful white and cream dress filled with

**R**uffles and lace. Around her skirts were blue, magenta, and green, her favorite Tarrant- eye green.

She clicked her way on heels to the entryway to the gardens, only to find Tarrant waiting.

"May I have the pleasure of escorting you, my dearest Alice?" he gave his arm, which Alice took.

They smiled, and into the party they went.

**A**s they stepped down the grand staircase to the party, Tarrant could taste the romance in the air. He knew that just last week Lord and Lady Ichabod had finished renewing their vows, and that three days ago Lord Barker had asked for Lady Sweeny's hand. Even the younger lords and ladies were flirting about, eager to join in on the chance of true love. Younger. That thought flew into his mind quickly.

He was not very young. Yes, Time had stopped him from aging past twenty eight, but compared to Alice's twenty four years, she was so young. Four years is a lot. In fact-

"Tarrant." Alice leaned into him. He looked to see her smile.

"Oh, I'm fine. I was just thinking. Shall we head to the gardens?"

"Of course, Tarrant."

They quietly slipped into the gardens, and stopped in front of a beautiful fountain. It was alabaster marble, adorned with a man and woman, and their three daughters, all wearing hats. The man had Tarrant's gap tooth smile, and the woman had his curly hair, as did one of the little girls. Alice inspected them in awe, and reached her hand to brush the cheek of the smallest girl.

"Tha's mah family," Tarrant slipped into the Scottish, or should she say Outlandish, brogue. "Me Mam, Fa, and me three sister- bairns. Judice, Irene, and Aldrea." His eyes took on the blueish gray, and Alice's heart gave a painful squeeze. "The White Queen built this to honor all who died on the Horvendush Day. She decided to use on o' mah family portraits from th' last May Day."

Alice saw his father looked very much like him, wearing a kilt and a beautiful top hat. His mother was wearing a cloche, and the girls were all sporting bowlers.

"Tell me about them, Tarrant. Tell me about your family."

Alice's demand was quiet, almost too quiet for Tarrant to hear, and it surprised him.

"Alrigh'." He cleared his throat and his lisp returned, though the gray returned as well, and his face was stoic, like the stone of the fountain.

"My father was named Davin Hightopp, and he was a hatter, like his father before him. He had been more... cheerful than I could ever be." his voice thickened a bit. "Especially around Mam. Her maiden name was Vivian Tielander. Her clan made neckwear. She was good at it, but ribbons were her specialty. She had violet eyes. Her favorite thing to do was to sing to the trees." he looked up.

"**T**hat's how my Fa found my Mam. Following her voice in the Tulgey Woods. They got married in a hurry." he smiled wistfully then. "Three months. That's all the time they took. And they loved each other fully, too. Like they were made for one another. I was the second oldest, but my older brother Chawldon... he was disowned after he joined the Bloody Big Head. She had a liking for him, and he was beheaded after she caught him bedding another. Never could keep his hands off the ladies. Well, I'm guessing she killed him. We're actually not sure. Never found the head, or the body for that matter." he formed a deep frown. It lifted immediately.

"Speaking of heads, I made you something for yours!" he pulled a hat from behind the statue of his mother.

Alice was surprised to see he had made a top hat very much like his, but with the fabrics she had been surveying earlier that day.

"Here, let me put it on you properly," Tarrant moved behind her and placed it upon her head, then flipped one of the ribbons over her face.

"Tarrant, what are you- oh!" Alice smiled, then gasped at what was tied to the end of the ribbon.

There, tied on the end was a ring, a silver band with a diamond hat in the middle, and engraved around it was the riddle 'Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?'

"Alice," Tarrant turned her around to face him. "Will you give me permission to court you?"


	12. A hat full of revelations

"**O**h, yes! Yes I do, Tarrant! I do give you all the permission in the Kingdom of Underland!" Alice clung to Tarrant, and they kissed passionately, and it became very heated, as he shifted his hands to her waist, and she roamed her hands until they tightly gripped the lapels of his coat.

In the bushes, a crushed whisper of "Why not me?" came softly over the breeze, which Alice thought she imagined, but it alerted her all the same, but only to the time.

"We should get back to the party, though I don't really want to."

Tarrant nodded, and he offered his arm, and after slipping her ring onto her finger for her, he led her back to the gathering.

Once they reached the group, Mirana stood from her dias and practically glided over to them in her frothy white gown.

"Oh, Alice! How happy I am to deem you Lady Alice!" she wrapped Alice in a hug, then turned her attention to her hand. "And Tarrant! You have made your intentions known! Congratulations are in order."

"I have," Tarrant looked quite pleased with himself, just as Alice was pleased with him.

"Then let it be known that the courtship of Royal Hatter Hightopp and Lady Alice Kingsleigh has begun this night!" Mirana's queenly voice carried far, and all of the court erupted in applause.

**A**s they were clapping, Alice leaned towards Tarrant.

"You know this means we must go back." she murmured to him.

"Back where? To the castle?" he gave her an adorable confused look.

"No, silly. To London. You must get my mother's blessing, and I'll not keep anymore secrets from her. Especially not one as lovely as this."

Tarrant Hightopp almost died of apoplexy that moment.

**A**round one in the morning, Tarrant awoke to find a mostly nude Alice in his bed. He was holding her, while she snuggled into his bare chest. She was only wearing a chemise and bloomers. She hadn't bothered to go to her rooms, he mused, and she stirred. Her golden curls splayed across her pillow, and over parts of his face as well. The tresses carried the scent of the lavender tonight, and he found he liked it very much. It mixed well with the smell of her own self. She smelled like a meadow fresh after a rainstorm, which was one of his favorite smells.

She shifted and tossed about, almost falling off the bed, but his reflexes caught her from the edge.

She fits in her sleep like a child, he smiled at the thought. She moaned in her slumber, and he suddenly felt hot. Was it warm in here? Perhaps that was why she was tossing and turning. Maybe he should open the french doors to the balcony. Perhaps he should-

"Tarrant." she sighed in her slumber. Even in dreams she was calming his bouts of madness. Truly they were made for one another. He hugged her tighter.

**T**he next morning the maid didn't come. Tarrant had locked his rooms, so there wouldn't be any disturbances. He made hats in his sitting room, leaving the windows wide so Alice could sleep peacefully without the stench of mercury glue.

Lately he had been favoring cloches, and when he thought of his family, he'd have to start a new one as he would find the one in his hands destroyed. It was very inconvenient. It would happen especially when his thoughts were of his brother. That slurkum- juggling, nasty, no good shukm spewing-

"Tarrant," Alice rubbed his shoulders, as she eased the poor orange fez from his hands. It was an old one, but she liked it.

"I'm fine," he breathed, and his eyes faded from orange to green.

"Let's just go out tonight. Show me around. But for now, show me how to make a hat." she pleaded as she placed the fez aside.

"What kind?" he started grinning. "A bonnet, beanie, bowler, boater, bohemian, ayam, cloche, fez, fedora, tricorn, turban, top hat"

"Tarrant!"

"Flat cap."

For hours they worked, giggling all the while. Tarrant let the master Hatter in him take over, and guided Alice through each step. He let his mind wander to the discarded corset on his floor, and he'd snap back to reality to find the satin Alice had cut was uneven. By the end of it, they wound up with a very small hat, a bowler only big enough for a small child, presumably a girl, since the satin was pink, and the ribbon used around its crown was a chocolate brown. It was a very dashing hat. But at some point, something clicked in Tarrant's mind.

"You miss your niece, don't you?" he peered down at her big brown eyes, and tears spilled over them.

"She's not even my sister's!" she sobbed as she clung to his chest. "She's only the daughter of the horrible man she married and a maid! That poor woman wasn't even willing. How can a child so sweet and innocent be the result of rape? How can I let her stay with Lowell?"

Tarrant looked at the wall behind her, a stony look on his visage. Whoever this Lowell was, he would be sure to have a strongly worded conversation- perhaps with a few punctuating punches- with him. Then he would do anything to help this little girl that Alice loved so very much.

"Do you love her?" he murmured to her.

"Like a daughter of my own. It was I who raised her. No one else would bear to look at her." she shuddered.

"Then we'll go to see your mother, and then we will find a way to take your niece Mirana home with us."


	13. An amazing night to remember

**T**he night was calm as Alice and Tarrant went to the kitchens. Thakery had already quit for bed, that poor tired March Hare. So they made a few simple finger sandwiches for themselves, and packed a light picnic basket, then snuck off to the stables.

They decided against using Ellis, so they picked another horse, a stallion named Virgil. He was an old horse who was a hopeless romantic at heart. Tarrant whispered directions to Virgil, and his reaction was pleasing.

"Why, Hatter my boy, you are a remarkably romantic man!" he exclaimed as Tarrant lifted Alice onto the horse, then hoisted himself on.

Virgil was off in a hurry, and Alice felt the chill of anticipation, and perhaps a bit from the wind. She expected going to the endless tea party at Thakery's windmill, but instead they approached Witzend. Once they passed the charred remains of Ipalm, Alice started having the feeling they were going to a new place.

They reached the beach of the White Sea, and Alice's eyes widened. The beach was deserted, and the moon shone bright, reflecting upon the water as it lapped the shore calmly. Tarrant gracefully slid from Virgil's back, then laid down the blanket an basket. Then, when all was laid out, he turned to Virgil and hoisted Alice off of him. Virgil nodded and moved to

**T**he fields nearby.

"Tarrant, this is... so beautiful!" Alice looked at him and flung her arms wide, indicating the beach.

"Yes. This was were Outlandish clans went to the beach." he smiled at her warmly. "This is my favorite place in all of Underland. I wanted to show it to you before we left." he looked down to find Alice was crying. "What's wrong, poppet?"

"It's so overwhelmingly lovely. How could I have left you those years ago?" Tarrant put his hand to her face and wiped away her tears as she leaned into the hand.

"You had things to do... questions to be answered. I couldn't let you leave forever. But I also couldn't have you stay, either." he looked at her, and the gray flashed for a moment. "But now we can go together. I'll get your mother's blessing and we'll get little Mirana, and then we'll come back. We'll start reviewing the tomes for the Outlandish Rites of Passage."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Alice said, her sniffling starting to subside as she sat down. She might have been considering words that started with the letter S.

Tarrant sat down beside her, and they watched the moon as they ate.

Morning broke over Mamoreal as Virgil brought Tarrant and a sleeping Alice back. The Hatter slipped Alice over his shoulder and gave Virgil his well earned handful of sugar cubes. Virgil went back to his stall, and Tarrant carried Alice back to her rooms.

**O**nce Alice had risen and greeted the day, she had found Tarrant's suitcase next to her full- form mirror, along with his hat. Mirana bustled into her bedroom, a smile on her face.

"Good morning, Champion Alice," she excitedly whispered, her wine colored lips tilting into an impish grin. "And where have YOU been all night?"

Alice didn't bother to blush, for she knew that the White Queen saw them with her spyglass as they were off last night. She couldn't resist a romantic tryst.

"We went to the White Sea's beach just beyond Ipalm. We had a picnic and peered at the moon all night."

"Well today, I am to help you get dressed and see you off. I kept Tarrant in the sitting room. He can only hear us from here. We don't want him seeing all of you before your wedding night, after all!" Mirana waggled her dark brows at Alice, and she did blush at THAT thought.

Mirana giggled and pulled her to the bathroom, where a warm drawn bath was waiting for her. The queen helped her undress, and into the bath tub she went. As Alice scrubbed herself, Mirana found the most boring, monochromatic, faded mahogany dress she could, with all the accessories. Then Mirana helped Alice out and dried her off. Alice quickly put on the bloomers, chemise, and petticoats, about five of them. Then, after a bit of a loud argument, they hit an impass.

"But I HATE corsets! I wore them for your ball, but I will NOT wear them again!"

"**Y**ou WILL if you want my help to get through the mirror!"

Tarrant popped his head in, with an innocent "May I interject?", which was returned quickly with two simultaneous "NO!"es.

After a bit more deliberating and finally a sigh, Alice had Mirana help her into the accursed ivory corset.

"I can't breathe," Alice complained as she put on her final dress layer.

"That means it's on right," Mirana took an opal necklace and hooked it around Alice's neck. "When you need to return, join hands with whomever you're returning with, and this opal from the Vorpal Sword will take you back. It only works once, so use it wisely."

With that warning, Mirana called in Tarrant and he picked up his suitcase, his hat now on his head. He looked so gray with his dark grey suit with a lighter grey vest. His hair was still springy, freshly washed and bright. And he was still himself, although he didn't look as muchy... a bit out of his element. Uncomfortable.

"Once we get Mirana Manchester, and mother's blessing, we will come back, and we can be a happy family." Alice assured him, and his eyes flashed a deep indigo.

"Well, now I can get you there," The White Queen eyed the mirror, touching its surface, "but you must decide where THERE is. Once you are through, I cannot get you back. I can only send you messages."

She picked up a bowl of water, and traced a pattern in the water's surface. Then, in a swift move, she tossed the water onto the mirror, and Alice covered her head, expecting a splash, but the water clung to the surface of the mirror.

"Now. I need you, Alice, to step in front of the looking glass." Mirana whispered, and Alice did as she was told.

"Good. Now I need Tarrant to take your hand, yes." she nodded as her directions were followed. "Now think of a mirror in your home."

Alice suddenly thought of her father's study with it's tall, full-length mirror. The surface of their mirror rippled, and she could see her father's study. She stepped forward, and she felt the water swallow her, then Tarrant. They seemed to float a moment then they were forcibly expelled.

Authors note: this is one of my favorite chapters, because it shows both the understanding Tarrant has of Alice, why he forgave her so easily when she returned, and I find it hillarious to visualize the argument over the corset, with Tarrant's interjection!


	14. Into the brave new world

**T**hey were standing in the middle of her late father's study. An echoed "Fairfarren," was heard from the mirror, then the looking glass returned to normal, reflecting their forms. Alice looked about and caught sight of the Raven feather quill on her father's writing desk, and she looked to Tarrant.

"Alice?" he looked around, like a child being brought to a new home.

"Yes, Tarrant?"

He leaned in until his breath blew across her ear.

"Have you any idea why a Raven is like a Writing Desk?"

"I'm trying to find an answer, but for now, I haven't the faintest idea."

"**N**either do I."

They shared a chaste kiss, then Alice moved to the door and peeked about. She opened the door wide for a moment, then waved for Tarrant to come.

"We are going to find a hotel or inn to stay, then come back to visit. We wouldn't want to scare my mother to death." she looked over at Tarrant.

His green eyes were wide as they looked all about the area, drinking in the sight with starving interest. She smiled. His wonder never ceased as she led him to her room and brought out a suitcase. She found that Tarrant was fascinated with everything about her. The toys she played with as a child were touched gingerly, as if they would turn to dust. He picked up the one hat she had loved to wear, a black silk top hat. He plucked a bright green ribbon from his pocket and wrapped it around the crown, then set it back down, approving of his improvement. He opened her wardrobe, his hands sliding down the silks of her dresses, lingering on the light 'Alice' blue dress that was still ripped and dirty from her last visit to Underland.

"That one's my favorite," she rubbed his back lightly, easing the tension there. "It let me know you weren't a dream. Underland, I mean. None of you were dreams. I had lost my muchness, and you yourself had given it back to me. Thank you for that."

He relaxed, "It was my pleasure."

At that, Alice smiled at him and took a few of the dresses Tarrant had lingered at, then moved to her drawers, and pulled out two chemise, five pairs of bloomers, and left the stockings and corsets where they lay. Tarrant made his way to the drawers and pulled out a corset for a young girl, with the price tag still dangling from the silk.

"So your hatred for constricting underclothes has been lifelong," he mused as they dropped back into the drawer.

"Yes, it has. I will only tolerate so much. I've already felt a bit light- headed for a while, so I want to get this done soon." she rustled her way to a drawer in her vanity, and pulled from it a large roll of paper money. Then she pulled out another.

"Alice, what is that?"

"This is only a fraction of the money I've earned in the last four years. I am a wealthy independent woman here, but I've no use for it in Underland. So I pulled my money from the bank so I can discreetly give it to my mother and sister, while keeping it from Lowell's greedy clutches. After all, Mirana would have needed Margaret if anything should happen to me." she sadly looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to slip one of the rolls into Tarrant's pocket.

"Don't worry. We'll take her somewhere safe, and everything will be alright." he ran his mercury stained white fingers through Alice's golden tresses, reveling in the silky texture. "I'll even make her a hat. Perhaps a cloche?"

"Yes, she likes those best." she murmured, and after they closed Alice's suitcase, Tarrant picked up both bags, and Alice led them out into the streets of London.

**T**arrant found he didn't quite like London. It was dull and dank, and as they walked outside he regretted taking in a deep breath, coughing as the pollution reached his lungs.

"How can you LIVE like this?" he exclaimed as he pulled out two handkerchiefs, one for him and a lovely blue lacy blue one for her.

"It's all the coal. THEY use it to power things, though it comes at a high cost," she answered, emphasizing 'they' with great despise.

She called a carriage, and Tarrant noticed the seats were not cushioned as they were in Underland, but they were worn down boards. Once they made their way inside the carriage, Tarrant insisted she sit on his lap, for comfort's sake.

The traffic was slow, and people yelled angry words at one another, and Tarrant looked about frantically. The soot covered buildings all loomed overhead, the shukm filled streets smelling of horses that didn't talk and furious men with hate- filled words.

"Alice, I don't like it here. It's awfully crowded." his outrageous orange brows came together in panic, and Alice laid her hands on either side of his face, using her thumbs to smooth the worried crinkles in his visage.

"Everything will be okay. Soon we'll be out of this frumious city, and we'll be back home. Together." she leaned over and rubbed her cheek against his wild mass of orange curls.

**A**s the carriage stopped, Alice got off of Tarrant's lap, and he got out to escort her. The footmen pulled the bags out of the back, and Tarrant took them gently. He didn't fail to notice the footman's disgust at Tarrant's mercury stained fingers.

They made their way to the front desk in the lobby, and Alice went to order a room. Her loving Hatter stayed with the bags, but heard the words whispered.

"Who is THAT?"

"Look at that outrageous skin! Must have never been in the sun before."

"His hair is like a clown's. Matches his horrid stained face."

"He looks like a wild man. How could a lovely woman ever see anything in him?"

Alice heard their frumious words and she quickly got a key. She was composed as she leaned to Tarrant's ear, her breath hot as it tickled along his neck.

"We need to get to the room. Come quickly."

They hurriedly went up the stairs, taking two at a time, until they reached the third floor. Walking down the hardwood floor hallway, Alice peered at the key she held and went to the third door on the left.

The room was warm, but just below pleasantly so, and Tarrant took his coat and draped it around Alice's shoulders, his body heat leaving warmth in it. She snuggled down in it as she sat on the one bed. Tarrant's mind began to whir. One bed...?

"Come now Tarrant, we are courting now. It is fine if we shared a bed. We'll just not tell mother." she smiled impishly as she stripped the boots from her feet. They went to the

floor with a clatter. "Here, Tarrant, come take off your shoes. We'll be going to my mother's home again in a while. I need to lay down, and you need to calm yourself. I can see your eyes are starting to turn orange."

He shook his head of the dark thoughts slinking around his mind. Tarrant kicked off his shoes and sat next to her on the bed. Rain started to fall, and as it pattered against the window, they drifted off to sleep.


	15. An embarrassing encounter and a swoon

**T**arrant immediately regretted falling asleep. How was he going to face Alice's mother when every time he falls asleep, he dreams of embarrassing situations with Alice? In his dream, he was taking tea in front of Thakery's windmill, when Alice stepped into the clearing wearing nothing but her chemise and bloomers. His mind had definitely gotten much more impropriotous. Dream- Alice sat on the table in his place set after swiping the place settings onto the ground. She ran her hands on his chest before sliding off his jacket, followed closely by his waistcoat.

Then went his nice colorful ascot, his shirt buttons, and his belt. Dream- him (because he would never do this to real or Dream- Alice out in public like this) stripped her of her chemise, and her pale breasts pressed against his bare chest as they engaged in a heated passionate kiss. He wiggled out of his trousers, leaving him in his breeches. She was arching her back-

"Tarrant!"

He awoke with surprise, looking about frantically. "What? What's wrong?"

Alice giggled at his fright. "Nothing. We just need to get moving. It's about time for mother to be home."

"Oh... right.." he blushed, looking down. Hopefully she hadn't noticed his... Outlands...

**A**lice giggled to herself as she laced up her boots. She had watched Tarrant as he sighed in his sleep, clenching his hands and moaning. She thought he was having a nightmare until she saw his... well, HIM. She giggled again, and Tarrant looked over to her while he tightened the knot of his laces.

"Are you alright, Alice?" his brows furrowed, and Alice smiled sheepishly.

"Just remembering something funny I saw." she answered smoothly.

Tarrant blushed as he went to get his hat from the table by the window, realizing what was seen. Alice stood from the bed, and he escorted Alice out the door and out the hotel.

Alice insisted she sit across from him in the carriage this time, for propriety and manners. It still bothered him. She had telling him about all of the things that one must do around, especially if one was a woman. A woman sits up straight, follows fashion closely, watches over the children, does the cooking, and the cleaning, but must look perfectly lovely

while doing so. They must always agree with the husband.

Basically, from what Tarrant had heard, women were treated horribly. His disliked that greatly. In Underland, women were revered as wonderful, self- reliant people, not as this world here did, where they were treated as an object.

The carriage stopped, and Tarrant helped Alice out. With a quick cleansing breath, he escorted her to the door. Before he could even knock, the door opened to reveal a butler, his nose in the air and an expression that gave Tarrant the precise feeling that he was very displeased.

"Miss Alice," the butler nodded, then cut his eyes to Tarrant. "Sir. Mrs. Kingsleigh is in her parlor. My, I had not expected you back with anyone."

He showed them in and continued to glare in Tarrant's general direction. Tarrant got the distinct impression that he was disliked by the butler. He had a feeling that he was the first of a long line of people he would have to deal with that had that dislike.

"Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. That will be all," Alice showed him away once they reached Walnut double doors that were the entrance to the parlor. Alice opened one of the doors, and watched her balance over the step just beyond the threshold. Tarrant followed closely, quite silently as they approached a grey paisley patterned wingback chair. In said chair was Alice's mother, facing the fireplace and sniffing into a monogrammed kerchief.

Tarrant saw the resemblance immediately between them. Even when crying, Helen Kingsleigh was a beautiful woman. Her platinum, almost white tresses were pinned expertly into place, though a few were loose, framing her gracefully aging face. She looked like a clearly worried mother. Helen looked up, and upon seeing Alice, she stood up, walked to her, and slapped her hard across the face.

It echoed, and Tarrant flinched. The last time his mother had done that to him, he had told her that his father had gone completely mad. He knew mothers only did that when they were very angry and devastated at the same time. Helen hugged Alice tight immediately afterwards, and they both cried. Women were so confusing!

**A**fter crying for a bit, Helen drew Alice at arms length, looking Alice over, taking a grain of pleasure from the fact Alice was wearing a corset and stockings.

"Where have you been? It's been a week. The police stopped looking for you." Helen shook her head, keeping herself from new tears.

"I was in Underland. The place you didn't believe in," Alice placed a hand on Helen's shoulder. "And I brought a very important person to meet you."

Alice walked Tarrant over to Helen, firmly directing his now suddenly stiff body that seemed to refuse the directions to move. "Mother, this is Tarrant Hightopp."

Tarrant held out the screams in his mind to run, scream, cry, or in the worst case, faint, and instead bowed gracefully, taking his hat off.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kingsleigh," he smiled his gap tooth grin, directing all of the Hightopp charm in his person to her.

"**Y**ou- you mean THIS is that Hatter that you've told me about for the longest time?" Helen turned white- as white as Tarrant was naturally, and as the eyes in her head rolled back, he caught her as she swooned.


	16. A time for references and connections

**T**arrant laid her back in the gray wingback chair, and Alice pulled smelling salts from the place between her... Hatter forced himself to stop thinking about where she pulled them from, but wound up thinking how useful AND pretty Alice's cleavage was. Not only did they entice him, but they were able to carry things as well! Was there NOTHING she couldn't do?

Alice waved the smelling salts under her mother's nose, and Tarrant refocused on the problem at hand.

"This is not my idea of a good impression." he sighed, and Alice gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry Tarrant. We'll bring her around and we'll have a nice long talk and we'll get her blessing. Here, take a look around the room. I've got lots of objects from my adventures around here, and I think you'll take to more than a few of them."

He followed her advice and looked about. He saw strange symbols on teapots covered in long skinny dragons, a tapestry with an eight armed goddess, and a wooden mask with interesting designs creating a yelling expression. But his eyes locked on something much simpler.

"What is that?" he pointed to the thing on the shelf, holding up a few large tomes. Alice turned her attention to that to which he was pointing, and her eyes lit up.

"Oh! Yes, that is a jar of dirt, given to me by a pirate captain who looked quite similar to you. He saved me from drowning after a forced occasion with a corset near the docks." she smiled at the memory. "He was almost as mad as you, but he was very... smelly, I guess is the closest word. Not quite frumious, but unclean."

Tarrant giggled madly, and began chanting quietly. "I've got a jar of dirt, I've got a jar dirt, I've got a jar of dirt, and guess what's inside it."

Alice grinned at that, and Helen opened her eyes.

"Hello, mother." she put her smelling salts away in her special place between her corset and breastbone. "Can we talk? You, me, and Tarrant?"

Helen nodded weakly, and Alice waved to Tarrant, who quickly joined her side.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Kingsleigh, for the shock I have given you. I was hoping for a much better introduction," he looked at his shoes bashfully, and Helen smiled and chuckled.

"You're quite a nervous fellow, Mr. Hightopp." she gestured for him to sit in a chair nearby the one Alice had seated herself in, and looked back to him with a smile. "Please, sit down. I'm sorry I gave you all such a scare."

He sat, and waited for her disapproval to start. It never came.

The conversation was long and full of Helen's questions.

"So, you are Hatter to the White Queen, whom you both had fought for to bring her back to power through the resistance you had led, and you, Alice, fought and enormous monster called a Jabberwocky, which killed the Hightopp Clan?" Helen tried to wrap her head around this large new world, but she didn't quite understand. She just accepted it.

"Yes, ma'am, that is correct," Tarrant's green eyes looked wide and childish with the amount of charm stored in them.

"Well, that's all very strange, but I suppose stranger things have happened." she sighed. "So why have you two come here, to this boring old London?"

Alice excused herself to go fetch some tea, and Tarrant grasped her hand lightly, gazing up at her with tender love filled eyes. She hesitantly pulled away, and her hips swayed ever so slightly, like the rocking of a ship, as she left the parlor.

Tarrant cleared his slightly- well, not slightly, a bit more than that- throat, and looked to his hopefully soon- to- be mother in- law.

"I, Tarrant Reginald Hightopp, last of the Hightopp Clan, and Royal Hatter to the Queen Mirana of White... wish for your blessings to court and marry your daughter, Alice Kingsleigh, Champion of Underland, and conqueror of my heart." Tarrant said as best he could, the nervousness of his mind making said heart to beat a rhythm for a good, fast paced futterwhacken.

For about ten measures of that fast beat, Mrs. Kingsleigh sat stock still, and Tarrant feared she had been disgusted at the idea, and when her tears erupted, he was sure of it. However, a smile that could rival Chessur's spread a moment later, and she hugged him with a motion Tarrant hadn't expected. Alice had walked in with a pretty yellow tea set, and upon seeing this, set the tea set tray down and pulled both of them into a group hug.

"Of course you can court, marry and live with my daughter!" Helen cried, "BUT..."

"But?" ventured Alice. This was where things could get complicated.

"But you write to me at least twice a month, and I must be there for the wedding, and you must visit for every Christmas, and I must see EVERY grandchild you bring forth!" Helen was very strict in her conditions.

"Of course!" Tarrant agreed immediately, and Alice nodded, her voice to tear- filled to properly answer. "What is Christmas?"

"Um... I suppose we can talk about that when we go out to dinner." Helen stood and brought them up with her.

"Where are we going?" Alice asked.

"Well, I was thinking Mrs. Moony's Meat Pies. I know it's a bit low- brow, but they really need the publicity, you know? And it's always nice to help out neighbors."

"What about Mrs. Lovett's?"

"Oh no. She's dead. Killed by a demon barber Sweeney Todd I'm afraid. Curious enough, he was found dead, too. Holding that crazy mad woman on the corner who would ask for Alms."

Tarrant recalled that his brother Chawldon was a barber. But he was in Underland.

**T**hey arrived by carriage, at the corner of Fleet Street. Tarrant helped the both of the ladies out. The carriage driver didn't even wait for them to reach the curb, and Alice would have fallen, but Tarrant managed to catch her in time.

"Slurvish, shukm- slinging carriage," Tarrant cursed, and Helen gasped. He turned his attention back to the women. "I apologize for my language, Mrs. Kingsleigh."

"Your eyes, Tarrant! Your eyes!" she blinked rapidly, and Tarrant didn't realize what Alice caught sight of a bit too late.

"Mah eyes? Wha' coul' bae wrong wi' me eyes?" his Outlandish brogue, thick as butter, had started, and he figured it out.

"Tarrant," Alice looked in his burnt orange eyes.

"I'm fine," he replied raspily, his lisp back in his control, expelling his thick accent as quickly as possible. He turned to Helen, who was looking quite frightened. "I apologize once more. It's a Hightopp Clan trait to have changing eyes, I'm afraid. Shows our emotions as clear as day. Orange is my madness breaking through. I'm so sorry you had seen that."

"It's just fine dear. Just had a scare, that's all."

A cat crawled by Tarrant's leg, and he picked it up. Helen made a face, but Alice leaned towards the cat. "I know a cat that looks very similar to you. He's a very naughty kitty. But you look like a nice enough fellow."

The cat, mewling as it went, jumped from his arms into the alleyway nearby. They stared in that direction, but mere seconds passed before they heard an ear piercing cat's scream, followed by a loud crack, and a door slamming. Tarrant felt sick to his stomach. His eyes turned a mustard shade. Helen and Alice shared a look, then pulled him into the eatery.


	17. Why meat pies aren't for everyone

**T**he place was busy, but they were able to find a table easily. It reminded Tarrant of a tavern that his cousin Emmy had run... that was back when he and Chess were on better terms, before...

"Tarrant," Alice rubbed his upper arm lovingly

"I'm fine," he wheezed, eyes turning from orange to green once more. "I was just thinking about the Horvendush Day, you see..."

"It's alright. It's fine if you think about it, but now you can focus on a happy future," Alice whispered, and Helen darted her eyes around to catch people starting to murmur.

"Oh yes! You are so right. Forgive me, I have been slurvish to be elsewhere in my mind." Tarrant smiled abashedly, the gap in his teeth in full view.

Helen found this charming, and she chuckled. "No need to be sorry, my dear. Please, I believe I was be telling you about Christmas."

She rolled on with a long winded story of Jesus, whom Tarrant didn't quite believe in, but liked what he represented and what the holiday brought about. Good cheer and the joy of giving were both very good things to have, as well as family togetherness. Especially family togetherness. After all, you never knew how long you have them.

"Christmas sounds like a wonderful holiday, Mrs. Kingsleigh! I should very much like to celebrate it!" he warmly responded to her story. Already thoughts of hats to give were dancing in his head like the sugar plums Alice had mentioned.

A woman walked to them with a tray, and set meat pies in front of them. She also put a very small glass in front of them, and as Helen and Alice bit into their pies, they lightly sipped the amber liquid inside. Tarrant bit into the pie in front of him, and found it was not very good. It tasted a bit gamey, and it smelt... familiar. He did as the ladies did and sipped the drink before him. Unfortunately, he had never had a taste for hard liquor, only a dessert wine every once and a while. He choked on it, but hid it with a smile that was a bit wobbly. His eyes watered. He ignored the strange looks from the other patrons, and continued on with another bite of the pie. However, he discovered why the pie smelled so familiar.

There, spilled out from the pie onto the plate, was the same fluffy bit of tail from the cat he had held just a while ago. He stood up with a gasp, and started backing up towards the exit. Alice and her mother looked at his plate, then calmly stood to leave.

As the woman rushed to entice them to stay, Helen took a venomous tone with her.

"We WILL be spreading word of this," she left to find Alice alone by the alley. "Where's Tarrant?"

"He's being sick right now. We have a dear friend who is a cat. This must be a truly disgusting experience for him."

Tarrant came out with mustard yellow eyes and a slightly green complection. His knees wobbled a bit, and Helen felt pity for the poor dear.

"Come now, darling, let's get you to bed."

"We can't go back to that horrid hotel, mother. The men stare and the ladies whisper." Alice took hold of her Hatter's elbow to steady him.

"Alice, we'll stop by to get your bags, then we'll have you all stay at home." Helen nodded in understanding.

"Oh... alright then." Alice had expected a much more strict rule than this. Her mother seemed to really like Tarrant. "Come on, Mr. Hightopp. Let's get you to bed, then we can have a better day tomorrow." Alice led him to a carriage her mother had been calling, and Tarrant nodded frantically.

**T**arrant was tired, so tired. It had been quite the day. They had traveled through a looking glass, gotten their blessings from Mrs. Kingsleigh, made a friend, lost it, and accidentally ate it, then regurgitated it along with anything else in his stomach while Alice waited, then was taken care of by Mrs. Kingsleigh. She truly was a wonderful woman. A very muchy one at that. Yes, Tarrant could see where Alice got it from. She also got her ability to endlessly coddle a man like a child from her.

"For the last time, I am just fine!" he sighed as he lay down. Alice placed herself in the middle of his line of sight.

"Alright, but I'm staying in here, sleeping right next to you, just to be sure." she

started unhooking the small clasps hidden behind the pearl buttons on the mahogany dress she was wearing. "Lord knows I can't stand this corset a moment longer." she grumbled.

Tarrant had to resist laughing. Truly this was a Champion of a woman. She wasn't concerned at all from eating a part of a cat, but White Queendom help her if she had to wear proper clothing! He got off the bed, his stiffled laughter helping his queasiness, and made his way to her struggling form.

"Here, let me help," he insisted as his nimble fingers, covered each by a thimble (what a lovely rhyme, he thought), and quickly unhooked her nifty dress and made the corset underneath fall to the floor in no time, letting her breathe regularly for the first time that day.

She sighed in relief and took in a deep breath, letting Tarrant get a full view of her chemise stretch with the swell of her breasts.

Lovely things, breasts, Tarrant thought to himself. They were able to give sustenance to bairns, hold smelling salts, keep a woman's chest warm, distract a man while a woman breathes and takes off her petticoats- wait, he thought, and he snapped himself from his inner madness, taking advantage of his sight.

Alice was aware he was watching, so she made a show of it, slowly stripping off the eight or nine petticoats she wore (her mother made her put more on before leaving for dinner). He gazed lovingly at her body. This was the body of his one- day- will- be- wife. He already had a design for the wedding band.

She was down to the whale bone skirt, and he helped her out of it, and she rewarded him with a peck on the cheek, accidentally brushing him with her curves. His eyes burned a deep violet as he thought of what that kiss could lead to... how she made the cutest noises when she was aroused...

Alice stood in her bloomers and chemise, brazenly before his beautifuly big lustful eyes (she was considering words that started with the letter B).

"Ahlice," he growled, and she saw his eyes were violet. She idly wondered what that meant as she looked at him intently.

"Yes, Tarrant?" her innocent voice almost undid all of his reservations of proper behavior.

"Do you have any idea why a Raven is like a Writing Desk?" he questioned, his eyes clouding green over the violet.

"I'm still trying to figure it out, but I haven't the slightest idea yet."

"That's alright," he grinned. "As long as I have you around, I'm sure we'll eventually have the answer."

She smiled at the thought, but she noticed quickly her state of dress. "We're uneven." she stated simply. "You have to be just as undressed as I."

"But Alice," he stammered and bit at her boldness, her muchness. "That's not proper at all!"

"Who is to say what is proper?" she countered, and she advanced upon him, and

managed him out of his jacket.

"Alice! This is not right at all!" he giggled childishly. "Someone is sure to catch us, and we'll be in trouble."

"Nonsense!" she cried as she tackled him, unbuttoning his vest and untying his ascot. "I want you comfortable tonight, as tomorrow you'll be meeting Hamish, Margaret, Mirana and Lowell. You will need your sleep."

"Hamish..." the name processed slowly through his mind. "That one chap who tried asking your hand just before the Griblig Day?"

"Yes," she groaned in annoyance. "It was so embarrassing. But we're still friends, I guess."

"...and Lowell?" he ventured, and Alice's face turned to stone.

"Decidedly not." she answered stiffly, continuing to undress him. "But we must talk to him if we are to take little Mirana. Margaret doesn't like her, so we don't have to worry about her. But Lowell hates the child. Contrariwise, he needs an heir. So it's likely he'll cling to her. She is his only guarantee of more money from the crumbling Manchester accounts, and eventually the Kingsleigh accounts." she glared at nothing with such anger, Tarrant felt bad for nothing.

He didn't feel sorry for Lowell, though.

As Alice finished disposing him of his day clothes, he tucked her in next to himself in the soft warm bed, and drifted off to sleep.


	18. An unpleasant day as promised by Fate

**H**e hadn't dreamt of anything, and Tarrant was thankful for it. After all, the small bed give much room for him to keep any arousal from Alice, who was just centimeters away.

This morning she did not look as nice as she did in Mamoreal. She looked upset, a frown marring her features. He slipped out of the bed backwards, landing on his rump as he fell. Alice woke to the sound of Tarrant's crash and a string of Outlandish curses. Perhaps he was not as graceful when he was just beginning to stir.

"Ah, scut!" he spat out the curse as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, "scut!"

"Are you alright?" she poked her head over the edge of the bed to find Tarrant grumbling on the floor.

" 'M fine," he mumbled, and he stood, hearing his back pop unpleasantly.

Today was not to be a pleasant one, he decided. At the very least he was going to have to speak with many unpleasant people, sipping badly made tea, and try to win over the same unpleasant people to give him not only Alice, but a girl he has never even met before.

No, it was decidedly not going to be a pleasant day after all.

**T**arrant had shocked Mrs. Kingsleigh and Alice when he came down dressed in his family tartan, his best kilt. The Hightopp Clan kilt. Alice was very pleased, although she did require him to wear breeches, or at least a pair of knickers.

Her mother gaped at him in such a way he got the impression he had chosen to wear the wrong thing.

"No, no," she assured him. "I guess we'll say you are from Scotland, so they won't ask about Underland."

He was very pleased that he could wear his outfit, and that there was a place in the Aboveworld that was similar to his Witzend. He had sought for it all to match colors and everything. Alice even matched her dress to the blue tartan he wore, so they looked quite dapper together. The blue she wore was just the right shade that matched the dark stripes of the plaid. She left her hair down, and he took a out a very small blue tricorn with white feathers. It wasn't as pretty as her Hightopp Top Hat he had made her, but it was still dashing, he thought.

"So why is everyone so upset about Lowell? What is his flaw that is so great it gave people reason to hate his child?" Tarrant's curiosity was answered with glares. "...Never mind. Forget I asked, I was out of line. It was merely curiosity."

"The answer will be apparent after you meet him." Alice stiffly answered.

**T**he ride to the Ascot estate had been filled with conversation, but it was idle conversation about weather, and fashion, and gossip. Truth be told, silence would have been better. Tarrant could tell Alice was merely forcing herself to state opinions and share gossip. When they arrived it was a blessing. Or so Tarrant thought. At least the air was cleaner.

Lord Ascot, the man Alice had apprenticed under for the last four years, was kind, and Tarrant liked him. He complemented his Hightopp Top Hat, took interest in his trade, and said interesting things that were able to make him smile.

His wife, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. She pursed her lips at the sight of his kilt, and asked why he was so pale. When he explained, she had already lost interest. Instead her disapproving eyes lingering on his hands, bethimbled and bandaged from work mishaps, stained with the mercury, and his kilt, and, most offensively, his hat. He accidently let his emotions slip, and her eyes widened when his faded to the familiar burnt orange. Alice had, of course, hurried over to see what was being said.

"Your- your husband," Lady Ascot stammered.

"He's not my husband yet," Alice replied, taking in Tarrant's eyes she sighed. "Not to worry. It's a family trait." she smiled and led him to the next conversation gauntlet while he calmed, Hamish Ascot.

He looked like he had sniffed something so frumious all the time. He was not very interesting, but he seemed to be able to roll with the strange things Tarrant would say.

"Hamish, I should like to hat you before I leave, but I'm afraid that will have to wait until Christmas. Alice told me I have to wait on giving gifts until then, which I find a bit boring. Maybe I could give it as an un-birthday gift..."

"Ah, but I've already had my share of those. Tell me, have you spoken to Margaret yet?" Hamish sipped his mediocre tea.

"Ah, no, um, I've actually been avoiding it, as Alice has the impression she won't... like me." Tarrant admitted, looking into his untouched tea cup.

"As long as Alice is happy, I think she'll be alright." Hamish mused. "She took Alice's refusal of my proposal quite well, actually."

Tarrant fidgeted, and Hamish waved at him. "Go on. Go talk to her. Afterwards I'll take you to the gentleman's club."

Tarrant didn't know what that was, but he nodded and set off to find Alice's beloved sister.

As it turned out, she wasn't far. It just took a punch to get to her. A little girl with the lightest of blonde hair came streaking through the gardens, her cream colored dress fluttering about her. She stopped, and locked her eyes upon Tarrant. Then she ran straight at him. At full speed, she rammed into him, her small fist in front of her as to punch his stomach. He doubled over, thankful of Alice's advice of wearing breeches, as his kilt flew in all directions as he went down. His large green eye flew wide open, and the girl grabbed the sides of his face, like Alice had done so many times before, and gasped.

"I know you!" she smiled. "You're the Hatter! It's been a while, but I knew I would find you!"

He recognized the girl. "You're Mirana. Alice's niece."

"Yes, I am," she giggled, her doe- eyes squinting. Tarrant noticed she was holding something.

"What have you there?" he asked, pointing to the toy.

"It's my Chessur. I never go anywhere without him!" she squeezed it tight for emphasis. "Soon, you and Aunty Alice are going to bring me to the real him, I can feel it." she whispered it, a haunted look crossing her features.

"Mirana! Stop running from me!" a woman about a couple years older than Alice appeared from the gardens, her lilac dress whipping about in her struggle to keep up. She spied the orange haired hatter, and approached slowly. "You seem familiar. Have we met?"

"No, we haven't," Tarrant replied, "but your sister made this bairn a doll of me once. I am Alice's betrothed, Tarrant Hightopp, Royal Hatter to the White Queen, Mirana of Mamoreal."

"I haven't heard of her or Mamoreal," Margaret arched a brow.

He called upon all the Hightopp charm he could muster. He was going to need it. "Well, she doesn't rule very much yet. Where I come from, we just got her into power, as she should be, so it's still a bit unorganized."

"Mmm-hmm... well OUR Mirana has seemed to take a liking to you..."

"Mommy, the Hatter is friends with Chess! They have tea with March Hare and Mally the Dormouse!" she exclaimed, tugging on the edge of his kilt. Margaret waved her away.

"Yes, yes dear I'm sure... Mr. Hightopp, could you play with her? I need to speak with Lady Ascot for a moment."

Tarrant gave his best smile. "Of course! I'll ask her about how things are done here. I don't seem to know very well, so I might as well." Margaret left, leaving Tarrant with Mirana.

They were silent a moment, but then Mirana started leading Tarrant by his kilt, which she was still tugging, towards the house, or should he call it a manner? It was large and ornate, in any case.

Tarrant leaned down and offered his hand to tug and lead with instead, which she took, not even flinching at his white hands stained with the magenta mercury.

"Where are we going?" he asked, stumbling behind the little girl.

"We're going to listen to mommy," Mirana huffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She says how she really feels with the mean Ascot Lady. We'll hear her and Grandma Kingsleigh, too. Grandma Kingsleigh is nicer, but she always does what the mean Ascot Lady says. She told her that Aunty Alice was dead. I knew she was wrong. My dreams told me so." she never looked at him, but she was able to observe him. "She would have to be alive for her to have all of those children."

A blush crossed his face, and she smiled mischievously. "Now we have to be quiet, or they'll hear us." she whispered, and they slowly came to the door of the parlor.

They quietly listened.


	19. A not proper Devil like you

"**H**elen, he's not proper," Lady Ascot stated curtly.

"No, he's just fine, he's perfect for Alice," Helen tried to soothe her.

"Mother, he's wearing a kilt. His hands are stained and scarred. His hair is bright orange. He's a milliner by trade, it's quite obvious..."

"All the better!" Helen declared. "He is a honest man, he works hard, he's interesting. He's"

"He's a clown in a kilt!" Margaret interrupted. "He is not of high enough title to deserve her."

"Don't talk about Tarrant that way!" Helen bellowed. "He is whom Alice has loved for YEARS, since childhood really! I've heard stories about him since Alice was SIX! If she loves him, I'll not take any more of this nonsense!" the door flew open, and Helen's shocked face met his. "Oh... Tarrant."

"I... I came to bring Mirana back... Hamish wanted to take me somewhere..." he slowly forced the sentence out, trying to remember anything, his eyes turning that all too familiar blue. Mirana looked up at him in pity.

"I'm sorry you heard that, Mr. Hightopp Hatter." she tugged his hand. "I'm so sorry." she whipped her heard to Lady Ascot and Margaret, who both looked very guilty, but not quite sorry. "I'm sorry mommy and the Ascot Lady are so mean and rude!"

"It's alright, deary," he smiled sadly at her. "Everyone has their own thoughts." he turned and walked away, and the women thought they saw his eyes dull from blue to grey.

**T**he carriage to the Gentleman's Club was terrible. Sure, it was comfortable, but Tarrant found himself confiding in Hamish. How curious.

"It's alright," Hamish patted Tarrant's shoulder softly, albeit awkwardly. "Mother hasn't been so nice since Alice refused me. I'm just glad she found a fellow as nice as you. Better than someone like Lowell," he grumbled at the end.

"What did Lowell DO? I've never met the bloke, but I've the feeling I should hate him." Tarrant furrowed his brow.

"It's been going on for years. Lowell is Margaret's husband. He's been womanizing for longer than I knew. But lately, well, about nine years ago, he got a bit more... unfaithful. Gave that maid a bit of a jig jig, he did." Hamish's expression turned stony, even more displeased than usual.

"No." Tarrant gasped. "Alice told me that Mirana is not Margaret's daughter, but it doesn't seem logical, she even calls her mommy."

"She was taught to do that so they would avoid gossip. Truth is, her first four years of life were with her real mother, but law dictates that the father gets the child, so she's been living with us while Lowell beats Margaret every night. We don't talk about it, but we all know it." Hamish finished, and look of pure hate in his eyes.

"That's... that's unforgivable!" Tarrant was grasping at straws for the right words. "He... he doesn't DESERVE a wife if he can't properly love her. He shouldn't have such a wonderful daughter, either!"

"That's why Alice has cared for her all this time," Hamish glared out the window. "Margaret is not the biological mother, so she doesn't want to, and Lowell doesn't CARE enough to. Alice is the only one of her family who loves her. She even has legal custody of her, since Lowell was proven not to be a proper care giver by the courts a few months ago. That means when you two leave, you'll be taking her as well, once you get written permission from him."

"Well, that's some good news," Tarrant relaxed. Hamish looked at him with an arched brow, eliciting an explanation. "Alice wanted to take her back, and I think she's better off with us than with HIM."

The carriage stopped, and they entered the Gentleman's Club to find that it was elaborate. The floors were marble, the smell of cigar smoke filled the air, and it made Tarrant's eyes water so much, the colors of gold and green melted together, blurring out any details.

Hamish led him to a room with a big table, which was covered in green felt, lined with six pockets, and had varying colored balls upon it. Tarrant was handed what looked like a large, polished stick.

"Have you ever played billiards, Mr. Hightopp?" Hamish asked as he placed the balls in a triangle.

"No, I can't say I have, but if you explain it to me, I'm sure I will know how bad I am at it." he grinned.

**A**fter a few games, Tarrant had beaten Hamish twice, lost three times, and had called it a day. They were almost out the door when a laugh rang through the air. It was derisive, almost mocking, and the men turned. From Hamish's expression, Tarrant guessed he was not a kind man. His white suit had cigar ash upon the lapel, and his beady eyes were focused on Tarrant. His black hair was well coifed, and his hands were fair and soft looking, a man who never worked a day in his life.

"Lowell," Hamish said evenly.

"Ascot," Lowell sneered, then returned his attention to the Hatter. "And who is this? This, kilt wearing, pale, stained, orange haired clown of a man?"

Tarrant had heard a lot of that today, and he was very tired of it. "I am Mr. Hightopp." Tarrant glared at Lowell. The man barked his laughter.

"Oh, Oh yes! Alice's love, yes! I have heard of you!" he was still laughing as he clapped Tarrant's shoulder, which he drew away quickly, like it was burning him.

"Margaret told me to expect odd, but this! This is over the top!"

"I'll have you know before you overstep boundaries that you are being very rude." Tarrant was about to turn to leave, but Lowell said almost magic words.

"To think such a lovely, fair, SEXY vixen like Alice would choose such a silly man like you!"

Tarrant used his grace from his futterwhacken skills, and turned his torso without moving his legs, using the force to punch Lowell. As his fist connected with Lowell's face, his eyes burned bright orange, almost red, the stains around his eyes a charred black.

Lowell fell to the floor, and he struggled back up, pointing at Tarrant with a shaking finger. "You're- you're a DEVIL!"

"No more than you are," Tarrant spat, and he left quickly.


	20. The cruelty of man

Hamish jogged behind to match pace. "Mr. Hightopp, that was amazing!" Hamish squealed with excited glee.

"No it wasn't. Now Alice will be awfully sore with me." he rubbed his eyelids, his beloved hat in hand. "She wanted to keep it secret."

"Keep what secret?"

"My home. My strangeness. My madness." he turned to Hamish, and he gasped. Tarrant's eyes were flashing between green, orange, and yellow.

"That's... that is amazing, Mr. Hightopp." Hamish glanced over at Tarrant as they rode the final miles to the Ascot estate in the carriage. "If I had that ability, I would never be ashamed of it."

"I'm not ashamed of it, but I need to keep it in control. When things like that happen, I... I'm unstable. I've never harmed anyone like that, though. Alice is usually there to calm me down." his eyes turned lavender when he thought of her smile, violet when he thought of the rest of her.

"You really love her, don't you?" Hamish looked at him closely.

"Of course. I've loved her forever." he replied with no hesitation, full of truth.

"Then that's good enough for me."

The carriage opened and he was led to the manor. Hamish showed him the parlor. "Tonight we are holding a party in your and Alice's honor. Then you will be sent with Mirana and Mrs. Kingsleigh home. I expect visits in the future, for any man who can hit a man like Lowell is a friend of mine." Hamish sniffed into his white kerchief. "Nasty allergies."

They were handed glasses, tumblers, full of amber liquid. Tarrant recognized it at once. "Oh, no. None for me, I'm fine." he handed it back, and the man who was handing it out gave him a confused glance before moving on. "Actually, I'd like to see little Mirana again. She was very cheerful, and if I am to take her home with Alice and I, she should at least like me, wouldn't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Hamish mused, and sipped from his tumbler of whisky. "I believe she would be in the gardens at this hour, underfoot as usual."

With that, Tarrant made his way to the gardens. He was going to teach Mirana to dance, as her father should have.

**A**lice was exhausted. Since she left Tarrant's side to let him mingle, she had been in a spare set of chambers, with maids all about her. She was stripped down to her bloomers and chemise, then forced into another corset, MUCH to Alice's displeasure, then a petticoat, then the wooden version of the whale bone skirt, then seven more petticoats, then a long, heavy, rose pink gown with matching slippers.

Her hair was fussed over for hours, and by the time evening came along, she was clean, preened, gussied up, and irritatingly having difficulty breathing. Though she did admit, she looked stunning. The rose of the dress made her alabaster skin look a pinch peachier, and the pink ribbon in her hair that wound through the intricate style of her curls was so elaborate!

She gracefully made her way back to the staircase, and slowly started her journey to the ground floor, trying not to fall and make a fool of herself. At the bottom of the stairs, Margaret tapped her foot impatiently. When Alice got to her, she ran directly into her frenzy of obsessiveness.

"Your betrothed is deplorable!" she fumed. "She's now dancing like a heathen!"

"WHAT are you talking about?" Alice furrowed her brow. What could Mirana's dancing have to do with Tarrant?

"Mr. Hightopp said he was teaching her to dance. Just come LOOK at what they're doing on the dance floor!" Margaret grabbed Alice's wrist and led her outside to the dance floor. While other people were dancing the quadrille, Alice caught sight of Tarrant and Mirana. They were off to the side, holding hands and turning circles, Mirana standing on Tarrant's shoes. Big smiles were on their faces, and Alice heard her niece giggle.

"I see nothing wrong with that," Alice turned to Margaret.

"Wait until the dance changes." Margaret growled. "It's embarrassing."

Sure enough, the tempo sped up into a fun- sounding tune, and Alice could have died at the adorable sight. There, on the dance floor, Tarrant and Mirana were doing a furious futterwhacken. Limbs were flailing, grins widening, and Mirana seemed to be a natural. But then they did a part of the dance that Alice was hoping they would omit.

Mirana twirled, showing off her snowy white ankles, and Tarrant spun his head, a very different from normal, highly challenging move. The crowd gasped, and Alice started to panic. Did he WANT the whole world to know about Underland? She ran to Tarrant, and he stopped his futterwhacken.

"Alice, what's wrong? Why is everyone so upset?" he looked at her with sea- green eyes, worried for the silence.

"Darling, honey," Alice led Tarrant and Mirana from the dance floor. "People around here can't spin their heads like you can. We're not as flexible. And Mirana, my little dearest girl, you know you're mother hates it when you show you're pretty ankles, and don't wear your stockings, even though they are like codfish. You make all the other ankles feel bad for yours being so pretty."

Understanding crossed Mirana's features, and horror took over Tarrant's, his eyes turning that sick mustard yellow.

"This is my fault." he furrowed his brow and looked at his shoes, scuffed from where Mirana had stood on them, He didn't care though. "I was teaching her to dance. She asked about the futterwhacken, and I taught her that."

"It's alright, Tarrant. It's fine you taught her that. We just have to do some damage control, that's all."

Alice led Tarrant back to the people, still shocked from what they had seen. A few of them backed away.

"I'm sorry, everyone, for shocking you so," Tarrant apologized before Alice could speak, "The futterwhacken is a traditional dance from where I come from, and since we, meaning Alice, Mirana, and I, are going back to my land, I thought it would be good to teach Mirana this dance's more simple aspects. I mean no disrespect."

It was silent for a heartbeat, but then Lady Ascot stood forward, and she pointed at Tarrant with fear and anger.

"Devil!" she screeched, "You spun your head like a demon from hell! Like Satan himself!"

"Evelin!" Lord Ascot cut her off. "You are out of line!"

Helen jumped in to help her future son in- law as well. She stood next to Alice and addressed the group.

"It is true my daughter's betrothed is strange. But he is no devil, and he is no freak. He is Tarrant Hightopp, a Hatter, who loves Alice with all his heart and is more than willing to care for her niece, Mirana. He was merely being kind to her. You should feel ashamed for hating him for that." she looked directly at Margaret and Lady Ascot while she gave her speech.

**M**irana stepped forward and took Tarrant's hand in hers.

"Mommy, I like Mr. Hatter," she looked at Margaret. "I want to live with him and Aunty Alice in the pretty white palace. It's nice there. It has my Chessie!"

Margaret gave her husband's daughter a hard look. "Good. Go. I don't want you here. You're not my daughter, and I want you to leave."

Tarrant's eyes went orange, and he stepped forward to look Margaret in the eye. "You disgust me, Margaret. I am glad Alice is not like you."

He picked up the crying Mirana and cradled her in his arms as he walked away, with Alice following close behind.

Author's note: this is where family tensions start, and why I think things start getting out of control. Also, I hope that readers have figured out by now that Mirana is like Alice was when she was little, only she knows that her dreams aren't just dreams, but visions of the future. But will it be the future that actually happens, we have yet to see. I haven't really decided yet, to be honest...


	21. Sweet dreams are not made of these

**T**hey had decided to help Mirana pack for Underland, so they could take her directly there at the week's end. It was Wednesday according to Alice, so they could go touring a while until Saturday. They arrived to Mirana's room, and Alice felt at home.

In the corner was the tea table in her photograph, and her four- poster bed was next to it. The brussels carpeting was still nice and new, and on her vanity there lay costume jewelry and her Chessur doll. In the seat was the Tarrant doll, and on the floor was the White Queen's miniature.

Mirana jumped from Tarrant's arms and dragged out a large suitcase from the closet. She went to her drawers and opened them.

"Turn around!" she ordered them, and they obliged, albeit a bit confused. She reached into her drawers and pulled out all her bloomers. "Stockings are for codfish," she stated firmly as she dropped the undergarments into the suitcase, then covered them hastily with a small gown she liked. "Okay, you can look now."

They found it cute she was so embarrassed by it, but Mirana only let Alice help her pack. Tarrant was sent to get a carriage, and took up conversation with Helen, who had stormed out of the courtyard.

By the time Mirana and Alice returned, the carriage had arrived and Helen was waiting inside, Tarrant opting to wait for them outside. He helped get Mirana's bag into the back, and got Alice and Mirana inside the carriage before getting in himself.

The way home was quiet, as Mirana snuggled up against Tarrant's side and fell to sleep.

"She seems to have really attached to you," Alice smiled, looking down at her niece.

"Yes, well done Tarrant. She never takes to people this well." Helen looked to Tarrant's eyes, which were back to their lovely green.

"I've had experience with children. When my family was alive, the mentality was that it took a clan to raise a child. I've helped raise all three of my sisters. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you view things, my elder brother never helped raise any of us." he ran his stained fingers through the girl's long pale locks. "Alice, have you any idea why a Raven is like a Writing Desk?"

"They're covered in ink and their notes are flat?"

"You're not even close," he replied as he looked upon the girl, a smile playing on his lips.

**B**y the time Mirana was laid in bed, the goodnights had been said, and nightclothes donned, Tarrant was exhausted. Alice was already curled up beneath the blankets, and he lifted them to follow her into sleep, when he found she was only in her bloomers. A raging blush crossed his white face, and he lowered the blankets, taking a quilt from a neighboring chair. He laid upon the blankets on his side, and brought the quilt to him.

But then he began to dream a terrible dream.

It started nicely. He was having tea at his parent's house, like he used to before the Horvendush Day. Only this time, Alice was there, sipping with them. Out the window, Tarrant saw Mirana and his sisters play with a beautiful little girl, who was no more than three years old. She had wild curly orange hair, with bright green large eyes, and skin as white as chalk, but she looked like Alice, remarkably so, with the curve of her smiling lips, and the sound of her giggle...

"Congratulations, honey," his mother beamed at him. "That's a wonderful daughter you have."

"Thank you," he answered, confused as ever. "But how are you here?"

"We're not, darling," his mother shook her head sadly. "Your brother sent you all to us. A shame, really, with the next child coming and all." she looked to Alice, and Tarrant's gaze followed hers to Alice's swollen abdomen. A child...

"A... a child. But... my brother?" he was grasping for thought, and it dawned on him. "We... we're no longer of the living?"

"Well, for now you are. We're here to prevent you and your family from dying. You have to be prepared for him, Tarrant." his mother became stern.

His father stepped forward. "Once he hears of your marriage, he'll be after you. In this future, you didn't get yourselves Soul Bonded. Do the Soul Bond BEFORE you get married. Have her mother witness it. Trust me, a Soul Bond will save you from him."

"I know Outlanders can't hurt other Outlanders with it, but Alice is from the Otherworld, Aboveland, Upstairs!" he was grasping Alice's hand, and she looked at him and smiled.

"Tarrant, I'll be fine. Once we Soul Bond, I will be an Outlander. I'll be a little paler, and my eyes will change shades, not colors. Oh, and the pain. There will be pain from my blood changing. But you must help me through it. Or we will all die."

And the morning sunlight awoke him from his nightmare.

Author's note: I know this one is short, but I don't want to have too many situations blending together in this one. Beware, the next chapter has some serious stuff in it


	22. A hint at life with kids

**H**e looked about frantically, a cold sweat sticking to his skin. Alice was awake, holding him and rocking him back and forth, just a few sheets between his face and her

breast. She was trying to calm him as a mother would.

"Shh, shh now, Tarrant. It's all right, everything is fine." she ran her soft hands through his matted orange hair.

"For now," he whispered, then her hand stopped moving. He sat up, pulling her hands to his mouth, and he kissed her knuckles. "Alice. Sweet, sweet Alice. I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about? You've done nothing wrong." she tilted her head.

"I had a terrible vision of our fate. We must prevent it in any way we can. I will not let you die, I wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Tarrant, please calm down, we're fine." Alice moved to comfort him again, but he stood from the bed.

"We have to do a Soul Bond today. Or tomorrow, if you want to see London once more before we leave. But we must do it before we return to Underland, it's imperative, it's"

"Tarrant!" Alice cried, and he stopped, his yellow- orange eyes fading to pale green. "What, for the love of White, is a Soul Bond?"

"A protection for you," he sat next to her, and this time he gathered her in his arms, stroking her golden hair. "It will change your red human blood to the bright blue blood I have. A mark will appear on your hands, tracing along your veins into your collarbone, and will spread over your heart. It will appear on me, but it won't hurt as much as yours will. The transition is painful, and you will wish for death, but it is worth the protection it will give you. From it, we will share life force, which in turn will freeze you in youth, makes you a bit paler, and a bit... more mad, I'm afraid. But you'll stay safe from any other Underlander, now that the Jabberwhocky is dead."

"If it will give you piece of mind, I will do it, but only tomorrow." she kissed him quickly.

The kiss stopped being so chaste, as their lips molded to one another, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. Alice let the blankets drop, and her pale orbs were shown in the weak morning light. Tarrant found them to be just as beautiful as he dreamed they were, with a small birthmark on the right one. He wondered how he knew that, then disregarded it almost immediately.

Alice sat up on her knees, aggressive in her lust, and grabbed his bare shoulders, digging in with her nails. He winced a bit, but he gained access to her mouth, which he explored with much enthusiasm. Their tongues intertwined in a dance of love and lust, each tasting one another.

Alice slid her hands down his paper white skin, reveling in the feeling of his bright orange chest hair. It wasn't a sparse amount, but it was not as thick as carpeting, as Margaret told her men's chests were. She found she liked it, and wound her fingers around the small curls, while he moved his hands to her chest, around the collarbone, and his lips moved to her neck, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. She tilted her head back so he could get a better place, and he suckled the spot until it left a mark. She would be sure to wear a collared dress today.

His hands dipped a bit more, and began caressing her breasts gently, worshiping the

feel of them. He smiled against her skin, and murmured a joke the both of them started to giggle to, though neither heard what it was. He lifted his head and reiterated.

"Alice, you have heavy cream pitchers, as always!"

When Alice giggled, her breasts bounced, making it harder for Tarrant to resist his more base of urges...

"Aunty Alice? May I come in?" came Mirana's voice from the door. "I'm awake and I want to talk to you and help you make breakfast."

author's note: this is also one of my favorite chapters, not for the whole naughtiness, but for the ending. It may be a very good hint at what life after children will be like. Poor Tarrant and Alice...


	23. An embarrassing start to a great day

Tarrant scrambled out of the bed and put on the shirt to his nightclothes. Alice was busy putting on a chemise and brushing out her mussed hair.

"Come on in, sweetheart," she called, and her niece burst through the door. She locked eyes on Tarrant, and a smile erupted on her face. "Oh, hello, Mr. Hightopp Hatter man! Are you here to talk to Aunty Alice too?"

"Something like that."

They went downstairs, with Mirana chatting all the while at Tarrant. The word 'at' was appropriate, for like most children, Mirana never stopped. Tarrant made the morning blend of tea, while Mirana brought him the sugar and cream. He set Mirana a cup, and then helped Alice with making eggs and bacon, fried to the perfect brown.

Mirana ate happily, not noticing the stolen glances Alice and Tarrant exchanged. Helen came in, and she giggled at the sight.

"All the children still in their nightclothes, eating breakfast. But Alice dear, you DO need to sleep in a nightgown, or at least a slip. Walking around the house in your knickers is silly." she laughed again when Tarrant blushed. "So what are you doing today?"

Alice swallowed the bacon she was chewing and talked around another mouthful. "Mm. We're taking them to see Big Ben, Hyde Park, and then perhaps a visit with the Chattaways." she didn't really want to, but if she didn't talk to them, rumors would fly of eloping, impropriety, being in a FAMILY way-

"Alice," Tarrant placed his stained hand on hers, and she dropped her fork.

"I'm fine," she replied, then laughed. "It seems we've switched places, my love."

**T**his time, Alice had the mind to call the butler to bring around the Kingsleigh family carriage. The seats were cushioned, and Alice sat right next to Tarrant, with little Mirana chatting away about the nice things around, which Tarrant was getting very good at tuning out. He liked the ride, because today people were a bit nicer, and the traffic was light. It also helped that he had two people who he cared about very much with him. Then he caught sight of Big Ben.

"Alice, look!" he was so excited that he stood as best he could, his face pressed against the window. "Look at how BIG that clock is! Why, you could be on time at anytime, anywhere!"

Mirana giggled. "No, silly!" You can't see Big Ben everywhere!"

Tarrant sat down, a bit disappointed, but he still threw it an appreciating glance every now and then.

They arrived in Hyde Park, and Alice showered Tarrant with information, like how the flowers don't speak and how she loved to sit and think of him. He couldn't help but notice the strange looks he was getting.

"Alice, I'm wearing my normal clothes. Why are they staring at us?" he leaned close to Alice, but it was Mirana who answered.

"It's because Aunty Alice is s'posed to be a spinster without the man she'd been missing, Mr. Hightopp! She never settled, and nobody thought she would. That's 'cause Aunty is stubborn!" she ran ahead.

"What she means to say is, I never settled for anyone less than my most beloved Hatter," she gazed up at him lovingly, and his eyes turned that lavender that she liked so well. "And I didn't. I got exactly what I wanted."

They reached her willow, and Alice grazed her free hand over the worn spot of bark where she had waited for three months. It was now a good memory. Yes, she had what she wanted. She was going to have more, eventually, If she just went through with the Soul Bond.

**T**he Chattaways were very... talkative. The two sisters were very much like the Tweedles, always contradicting each other. Alice realized she hadn't visited them, either. That would be rectified soon, though. She just had to get through this irritating visit.

"So, who is this?" Fiona asked.

"Or, who ISN'T he?" Faith batted her lashes.

"I'm Mr. Hightopp, Alice's betrothed." Tarrant shifted nervously, and the flirty Faith pouted at her denied advances.

"We're here to see the Chinese silks I left here. Mr. Hightopp is a milliner, so we'd love to take some of them back."

"I suppose we could," Faith considered.

"Suppose we should," Fiona added.

"But we can't," Faith used her power over the fabrics to get a small revenge for Tarrant's refusal to flirt back.

"So we won't." Fiona confirmed.

"I'll tell everyone in this house, including your mother, how you had both been sleeping in the same bed as your stable boy, who told me what you had done." Alice glared at them, and their smiles were erased.

"You wouldn't."

"You couldn't."

"I would," Alice smiled an innocent smile. Tarrant had the sudden thought not to ever cross her.

They brought them to an elegant room full of ornate furniture. But that's not what

arrested his attention. Tarrant's eyes rested on expensive silks on bolts, just sitting in the corner. The bright colors! He slowly made his way to them, and Alice handed him a red bolt. It had a shine to it that ordinary silk didn't have. Tiny twisting dragons curled themselves around each other over the red.

"This is from China," Alice ran her hand over the silk. She sat another bolt in his arms, this one a rich blue satin. "This one's from India." the she gave him a smaller, softer in cushiness, but not in texture, roll. It was barely more than a few swatches, only enough to make about ten hats, if he was careful. "This was my favorite. It's from Scotland. It reminded me of you." she rubbed the fabric lovingly, the green wool soft against her skin. "I had a kilt made for me with it, but I've never worn it though. Mother said it wasn't proper." she turned to the Chattaway sisters. "We'll be going now, thank you for your time."


	24. The awful goodbye present of a Lech

**W**hen they got home, Mirana wanted to play with her dolls, so she left, singing all the way in the off key children often do. Alice turned to Tarrant.

"We're doing the Soul Bond tonight." she stated it simply, as if it wasn't an option.

"After dinner. You'll want to have something to eat before the three days of pain." he looked at her with green wide eyes. He was a bit worried, but calm.

"Will you suffer, too?" she asked, concerned for him more than herself.

"No. The Outlander of the ritual is meant to look over the significant other. I must be YOUR champion for a while."

"Good. I trust you more than anyone. I'm glad you'll be alright." she led him to the tea table waiting for them.

Hamish and Helen were sitting at the table. Unfortunately, so was Margaret... and a bruised Lowell. Tarrant had mentioned something about hitting him, so Alice was not very surprised. They scowled when Alice and Tarrant sat at their places.

"Well, if it isn't my sister, and her violent Hatter?" she put her hand to Lowell's bruised face for emphasis.

"He got what he deserved. I told him I'd be watching very closely, and I know what happened to give us Mirana. Tarrant was just defending my honor from your insults. Sugar?" she offered her Hatter, and he nodded and held out his cup. Alice gave him three spoonfuls, until he held his hand up to stop. He was awfully quiet...

"So when are you LEAVING, dear Alice?" Margaret filled her voice with venom.

"In a few days, after Tarrant and I finish some business here. We'll be taking Mirana with us, of course." Alice replied cooly, but Tarrant felt the tension crackle in the air.

"Good! Take the little monster! She's more of a reminder of unpleasantness than anything else!" Margaret yelled and knocked her tea cup off the table. Hamish excused himself, as this was suddenly a family matter, and Helen let him go. Margaret threw a piece of parchment at Alice. "Here's your bloody written consent!"

Alice picked it up from the table, plucking at it to straiten the corners. "So much for the love of children."

"What's the date?" Tarrant asked.

"November third and twenty," Helen answered, and Alice left, with Lowell standing up.

"I'll go apologize for our behavior," he told Margaret, and he followed after his sister-in-law. Tarrant quietly rose from the table and followed a few minutes later.

**A**lice had gone to the rose maze, sitting on the bench well worn from use. She put her head in her hands and cried, cried for Mirana, for Tarrant, for her secret world, for her relationship with her sister crumbling, for her pain, for everything. A hand brushed her back, and she sighed without looking up.

"Thank you, Tarrant. I really needed that."

"You're welcome, dear Alice." Lowell growled, and Alice gasped as his hands became much more violent. They grappled with her struggles, and he tackled her, then started groping her with one hand, the other over her mouth. His knees pinned her down, and she cried for her fear. His hands bruised the flesh of her modesty, and she bit down on one of his fingers.

"TARRANT!" she screamed with all she had left in her, and Lowell punched her in the throat. Her airway spasmed, and with the lack of air, she fainted, her body limp.

Tarrant bounded through the maze, hearing his name cried from Alice's lips in sheer terror. If only he had followed closer, if only he had left with her, if only he'd-

No. Now was not the time for madness. He needed to focus on finding Alice and saving her. If he went mad now, she would die.

He turned a series of corners, following the sounds of Lowell's grunts, and found her. She was limp, with Lowell shaking her rag doll form and groping her in areas he had no intention of identifying, keeping his madness in check. Bruises were forming on her. That would be the perfect time to go mad, the thought slithered in his mind as his eyes burned the bright orange he was so accustomed to.

His voice boomed with otherworldly violence as he descended upon Lowell, Outlandish curses and insults brought forth, his hatred locked into place. Lowell, being a coward, ran from him, but not before a number of sewing needles were firmly lodged in his back.

"An' don' come back!" Tarrant roared, and his eyes faded to blue as they fell upon Alice's unconscious body.

She was still breathing, and tears were gathered in her lashes, a bruise forming on her throat. He gently picked her up, and her head lolled back, her hair covering her face and falling in trendles over his arm. Her spring green dress was ripped, torn from the struggle. What if he had been a bit later? he thought with a shudder. He was sure when Alice woke up she would be much less muchy.

He passed the tea table they had vacated just a while ago, and Alice's mother gasped.

Margaret didn't seem so surprised, and Tarrant didn't expect her to be. He carried her upstairs to her bedroom and laid her on the bed, gently as he could possibly be, as if she would shatter like glass.

He felt bad for doing it, but he lightly pulled the smelling salts she kept in her bosom, which was bruised from Lowell's touch. Those marks would fade, but it would be much longer before Tarrant walked away from her, and much, much longer before Alice would be as muchy as the night before.


	25. A new start to a new life

**A**lice opened her eyes hours later, and the pain hit her head- on. She rolled to her side, and in the chair next to the bed was Tarrant, slumped over with her hand clasped in his. Then the memory of what happened slipped back to her. She was molested by Lowell. She was bruised by him. Tarrant must have saved her after she was knocked out. Relief washed over her. She was saved! Once they performed the Soul Bond, she was set on returning to Underland until Christmas, and she would only visit mother and Hamish; Margaret and Lowell were no longer her family. She rubbed her thumb across Tarrant's hand, and he stirred.

"Tarrant?" she asked, surprised by how gravelly her voice was. He woke from his light doze and looked at her with blue eyes, almost grey.

"Yes, Alice? Are you alright? Can you wiggle your toes?" he leaned towards her, and his large eyes grew even wider.

She wiggled them, and gave a brave smile. "Of course I can. I'm a champion after all. I... I don't feel much like one, though. Did... did he...?"

"No. I stopped him before he could get to your skirts. Your mother checked and made sure." Tarrant patted her hand, and relief once again overcame her face. Then she moved on to the next problem.

"Does Mirana know?" her next concern was voiced, and Tarrant hesitated.

"How about we get you some tea?" he tried to change the subject, and Alice sat up and grabbed his arm.

"Does. She. KNOW?" she gave him a desperate look, and Tarrant sighed.

"Yes. She knows. She's come and played in here a few hours ago, and I sent her to bed a while ago. Your mother is waiting for us. We'll have to do the Soul Bond now, before we go back home. I want you as safe as possible." he stood, and moved to pick her up, but Alice stopped him.

"No, I'm fine. I'm a champion, after all. THE Alice." she slipped from the bed, and found herself in her nightdress.

"Your mother dressed you." her betrothed yawned, and helped her to the parlor.

"How long have you been up?" she looked at his now green tired eyes.

"Only as long as you have been in bed, about twelve hours. But I must be awake so we could do the Soul Bond as soon as possible." he smiled at her. "After all, we'll both be

47

asleep for the next few days, and you'll be in pain for a few days after that." he opened the doors to the parlor, and Alice was helped past the step just beyond the threshold.

Beautiful multi- colored ribbons hung from the shelves and knick- knacks, and blue plaid was hung on the walls and over the curtains, blocking the view of London's disgusting streets. The furniture was pushed to the side, save for a small end table and two plaid mats, presumably to lay on. On the table was a knife and two blue plaid wraps, along with a gold rope cord.

Her mother was standing in front of the fireplace, which warmed the room, but it left Alice shivering in excitement. She was going to have a connection to her Hatter that no one else could!

"Hello, Alice dear, are you alright?" Helen helped her onto one mat, and Tarrant was placed on the other.

"Yes, I'm fine. As long as that creep never sets foot in this house, I'll be alright. I'm more in want of starting this ceremony, though."

Tarrant blushed, and Alice had a suddenly naughty thought. Suppose this meant something a bit... impropriotous?

"Well, from what Tarrant here told me, you two are going to slice the palm of your left hands and press them together. Then as a witness, I bind you together. The plaid wrappings won't be used for a few days, as you'll be in a deep sleep. The Tarrant will wake up, since he's the original Outlander, and bandage the both of you, then look after you while the change occurs. No one will be allowed in or out until then." her mother idly picked up the knife, a dirk with Tarrant's initials carved in the silver handle, and gave it to Tarrant.

He quickly sliced the skin after removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeve. Blue blood ran down the line made, and Helen gasped.

"My word! BLUE blood!" she put a hand to her cheek, and Tarrant nodded, his eyes the brightest grass green, excluding the orange ring in his right one.

"All Outlanders have it, especially those from Witzend." Tarrant gave the dirk to Alice, who slid a finger lovingly across the blue liquid upon it.

It was beautiful to her. This was what was keeping Tarrant alive, what would one day keep her children alive. She took a firmer grip on the dirk, and sliced her left hand quickly, and her red blood mixed with his on the blade, and hers dripped down her arm. Tarrant stared at it in wonder. He hadn't thought the color red could be so beautiful and mesmerizing before.

They reached their left hands together, and the cuts met with a sting. The two of them hissed at the pain, but remained firmly in place. Helen picked up the golden cord and intoned her speech in a grave tone.

"I, Helen Kingsleigh, state as witness of this ceremony, bring forth the beginning of this Soul Bond. May you both prosper." she wrapped the cord from the crooks of their elbows to the tips of their fingers, and made an intricate knot at the top.

They were laid down on the mats, and Alice could see Tarrant's eyes flashing

48

lavender as they fluttered closed. Her own eyelids grew heavy, even though she had been asleep just a while ago, and soon she fell asleep as well.

**T**he dream was sudden and alarming. She was in Ipalm, which was rebuilt, and a few Outlanders were about, with children running around. It was a bustling city once again. There, in the market, was Tarrant. The moment she found him he looked up, and they locked eyes. A smile broke across his face.

She ran to him, and she noticed a little orange haired girl next to him, holding out ribbons of satin and lace in bold colors. The little girl also broke into a smile, which looked quite like hers, save for the gap in the teeth, and her large green eyes shown with a flash of bubbly pink.

"Mommy!" she ran to Alice, and she automatically picked up the three year old, resting her on her own hip.

"Tarrant, where are we?" she put her free hand in Tarrant's thimble and bandage covered one.

"In a shared dream, Alice. This is the future we both want for us." he led her through the crowd of Outlanders, stopping in front of a house, which was shaped vaguely like a hat. They entered to find it modest, yet it was truly great in their eyes. The sitting room was as colorful as the sitting room in Tarrant's chambers at Mamoreal, with hat fabrics all around. The kitchen table had eight places, and was well worn and wooden. The tea set upon it was light blue, with Ravens and Writing Desks painted on the cups and tea pot.

They approached the bedroom door, and Tarrant held Alice back.

"If you go through that door, the rest of the ritual will begin. You will see all of the most important events of my life, the good and the bad, and you will be in pain. This will be the last time you will suffer without me there to help you." he warned her gently, taking the little girl from her hip and twirling a finger absently in her hair. He then plucked a thimble from his hand and placed it on Alice's finger. "When you finish, I want you to hold on to this and call out to me. I will be there in an instant."

She nodded, and turned to doorknob, and walked through the threshold without hesitation.

He was right. It did hurt.


	26. Oh memories! How you slowly kill!

**T**he emotions that she was hit with were monumental. They hurt with their intensity, and she opened her eyes to find herself back in Ipalm, but a bit older. A woman with fire- orange curly hair was tying bows on hats with fanciful designs. She smiled, and her violet eyes sparkled.

A little boy with bright orange hair and wild brows ran to her, wailing and cradling his arm. Another, darker orange haired boy trailed behind, slowly and quietly. Alice assumed it was Tarrant's older brother, Chawldon.

"Mother!" the youngest wailed. "Chawldon broke my thumb!"

"I'm not sorry, either." the older boy stated in the deep, cracked voice of the late stages of puberty. "He deserved it. I'll teach him to touch father's fabrics."

"Challenging the rules is natural for children, Chawldon." their mother scolded. "Tarrant was doing what was in his nature. You are too harsh of a brother." she fumed at Chawldon, and he pouted as she wrapped little Tarrant's thumb in white silk.

"You only get mad at me because I'm gonna be a Barber, and use my skills for profit, and get out of this backwater town, like a SMART person. You prefer Tarrant because he's gonna be a Hatter!" the boy's adolescence was obvious, and he fumed. "He'll be mad, just like Fa!"

"Don' yeh EVER speak abou' yeh Fa tha' way!" her brogue was let out, but her eyes just faded to indigo. She raised her arm, and her sleeve slid down, revealing a blue pattern of checkers up her arm.

"Fine! I'll be gone, then! I'm old enough to live on my own! I'll be going to Salezen Grum!" Chawldon's fury carried on further, his eyes burning black as night. He scared Alice, shook her to her core.

Then the scene shifted, and a slightly older Tarrant was before her, making a hat, and top hat in bright red silk.

"Like this, Fa?" he looked up at a familiar man, and Alice smiled.

Tarrant resembled his father in every way, down to the gap tooth smile. His father laid a hand on his shoulder, beaming.

"Aye. Yeh do meh proud, mah boy."

Once again, Alice was thrown into a scene, and the mood was very different. Tarrant's father was breaking things, yelling about a vision. His eyes were bright red, and the mercury stains were black, fading to purple bruises.

"Fa! Fa, yeh have teh stop!" a teenage Tarrant was yelling, trying to catch hold of his father. His wide green eyes were rimmed with worry, but not consumed by it. This was probably the least of his father's problems. "You're scaring Judice!"

A girl who looked like the youngest girl Alice remembered seeing in the fountain statue. Her eyes were pale blue, her bowler askew.

Tarrant's father whipped around, and shook Tarrant's shoulders. "You MUST FIND THE ALICE!" an inhuman voice tore from his father's throat, and he collapsed.

Tarrant turned to Judice. "Get Aldrea and Irene. I need you three to get him to bed. I'll have to be speaking to Mam."

She ran to accomplish her task, and Tarrant made his way to an old loom, where his mother sat, looking as young as before, excluding a few gray streaks in her hair, and a few smile lines.

"Mam," Tarrant began weakly. "What's making you feel older?"

"Chawldon's been arrested by the Red Queen he left us for, you're starting to get the mercury stains," she rubbed his hand, which was showing the beginnings of magenta marks

on his milk white skin. "I worry that you'll never find interest in a girl soon, before they have all gone. And your Fa is starting to leave us."

"Mother," he lisped, running his hand through her hair. "Fa's gone completely mad. He's broken his Hat- Workshop, scared Judice, and keeps yelling about finding the Alice, whatever that means. He's getting worse then Thakery. He's gallymoggers"

SMACK. The pain hit Alice hard, and blue blood seeped from the corner of Tarrant's pink lips, his body rigid from the shock.

"You'll no' talk abou' yehr Fa like tha'" she warned, her hand lowering, tears forming in her eyes.

They held each other and wept, knowing the truth, and Alice whipped into another memory.

Alice saw herself at age six, wandering to the March Hare's windmill, hearing music playing and furious giggling interrupting it. Tarrant sat at the table, following his still alive father's advise. After all, he had no idea he had such little time to spend with him. After her little self strode into the clearing, his cheerful demeanor changed.

"NO ROOM! No room here!" he yelled, serious as a squirting flower.

"There's plenty of room!" her small self sat down next to the March Hare, Thakery, and she was poured a cup of steaming tea from the yellow tea pot she remembered Tarrant had hid her in later, when she returned. Her younger self was about to take a sip, when Tarrant yelled.

"Clean cup, MOVE DOWN! MOVE DOWN!"

She was shoved into the chair next to him, where, in sixteen years, he had sat her down. She was poured a new cup by Tarrant, who asked for her name, smiling all the while.

"I am Alice, and who would YOU be?" she asked in her muchy way.

"Just a Mad Hatter named Tarrant Hightopp." he replied, and he leaned towards her, lifting a curl of her golden locks. "Your hair is in wont of cutting."

"How rude!" she huffed, and he laughed at her cuteness.

Alice smiled, even though it felt as if her body was surging with liquid pain. She saw her way through many good tea parties, ending with the one the re-met in, but the horror of his torture took over.

The dungeon was dark and dank, smelling if blood from beatings past. He was strung up by chains connected to the ceiling, and he hung limply. Stayne entered the small cell with a horse switch, and Alice starting forming tears.

"Now, you have hung here for a while." Stayne snapped his leather gloved fingers, and a card soldier unlocked the chains. Tarrant fell to the floor, where the chains were reattached to a lock waiting for his already raw wrists. "Now tell me, Hatter. Where is Alice?"

"I don't know," Tarrant glared, and he received a whip to the face.

"Where IS she?" Stayne repeated, and Tarrant spat, earning himself another whip. "WHERE IS SHE?"

"I WON'T TELL YOU!" Tarrant bellowed, and his shirt was removed, and after that, he received ten gashes across his back.

His screams of pain matched with hers of horror, and they faded as Alice went to another memory, in the Red Queen Iracebeth's Hat- Workshop. She felt the pain lessen slightly, as Alice was whisked away to his execution, where she saw Chess pose as Tarrant, then the moment he returned to Mamoreal and was greeted by her, then the sadness that almost knocked her off her feet when she claimed that this was all a dream, that he was a dream. How could she have been so cruel? She thought as the memories gave her the sight of his tears as she left all those years ago, just after his futterwhacken of joy, as he sunk to his knees. She felt so terrible for putting through that. She promised herself she would never do that to him again.

All of a sudden, all of the horrible things she had seen, and a few she hadn't, swirled around her, and it felt as if she was going to die. The screams of his father, the burning of their flesh, the sight of Alice herself going against the Jabberwhocky, all of her senses were attacked by fear, sorrow, and madness. She giggled hysterically as they slowed and faded.

She then felt the warmth of the good memories wrap around her, and the terrifying sights went far away, into a dark corner of her mind. Instead, her senses were filled with the scent of the White Sea Beaches, the sound of Aldrea's giggles, the sight of his family the last time he had visited them for Judice's birthday, and the feel of her own hair through his fingers. They all fell away to the bright light, and she fell through as well, and came back to herself.

She gripped the thimble and called for Tarrant with all her might.

**S**he opened her eyes, and found her vision blurry. Alice could make out Tarrant sitting on the mat beside her, reading a book while running his fingers through her hair.

"Tarrant?" she rasped, her voice weak and trembling. "It hurts."

He lifted her hand ever so gently, and she saw blue on her, but her vision prevented her from seeing the design. "It'll be a little while until you can move. Are you alright?"

"Everything hurts," Alice huffed a breath, panting as she mentally did an inventory of her body. "Even seeing things hurts... distract me."

"Pardon?" Tarrant didn't quite understand what she was asking of him.

"Distract me... Tell me what you're reading. Tell me about what happened after you woke up. Tell me everything."

"Well, I, um, alright then. I'm reading a... reference book. Well, I was, but talking to you is much better. It's about natural activities that are normal here. I don't think that Mrs. Ellis was a very nice woman. Anyway, after I woke up, I bandaged our hands, being sure that the cord remained in tact for two hours after that. Then after untying us, I found a few books, and read, and checked every once and a while on our marks. They're almost finished, by the way. How are you feeling now?" He gave her plenty of time to think about it, waiting patiently as possible as she considered her answer.

"The pain is ebbing, but my vision is still a bit blurry." she wiggled her fingers and toes, then slowly sat up with the aid of Tarrant.

"Good. That means it's almost done. The edges of the design are becoming crisper, more defined. I worried, you know. About if you wouldn't wake up. That sometimes happens. When a woman doesn't accept all the evils a man has done and seen in his time." He shifted on his mat, cross- legged. "Mirana told me before we started this that in her storybooks, a kiss wakes up a princess. I... was tempted teh try it a little whyle ago. Bu' Ah knew tha' if it worked, yeh'd be aware of th' pain longer." His brogue seeped in, showing his worry.

"It's sweet that you thought of how to help me." Alice took his hand in hers, then frowned. "Your father..."

"Yes, he was mad. I've come to terms with that." Tarrant answered, and Alice's eyes became fully functional, her vision clearing.

"No, he wasn't. He saw you finding me." she furrowed her thin eyebrows together.

"That was the only true vision he had. That's why it was so important that I remember it. But he was violent, and he would forget things, like he had family, or that he had just finished an order. The mercury finally got to him. I worry, Alice. Eventually, I run the chance of being like that. I'm already on my way there. I don't want to frighten my wife and bairns. I don't want to forget things. I'm scared, Alice." his eyes were tight and yellow green.

"It will be alright. We just have to get you some help. Perhaps Chess can use his evaporating skills to"

"Alice, we've been doing that all along. This is as cured as I can be. It will only get worse from here. Inside my head, it's... it's terrifying. I feel like a monster. The madness isn't able to be controlled, it's just beneath the skin." his voice shook, on the verge of tears.

"Now you listen to ME," Alice grabbed his face and turned it to hers. "I will not let you loose control. You will not go completely mad. You mean too much to me to let you let THAT side of you to take over."

"They don't have asylums in Underland, either. When you lose your mind, you just wander around in the woods, until you forget everything and give up on life." his eyes took on a haunted feeling gray, and Alice knew what happened to his father, if he hadn't been killed by the Jabberwhocky. "I saw it happen to my Uncle Tilose," he looked away, and got up, putting the books away.

"What do our marks look like?" Alice purposely changed the subject, and Tarrant's easily distracted mind obliged oh so willingly.

"It's very beautiful, though I can't look at all of yours yet. That has to wait until we have our wedding night. It's a test of endurance." he pulled up the sleeve of her nightdress until it reached her shoulder. "I can only see this much."

She gazed at it herself, and gasped at its beauty. There, on the skin, was a blue elaborate design that looked like vines of ivy, with little Ravens and Writing Desks. "It's so

beautiful."

"Mine looks the same, only in red." he smiled, and the doors opened.


	27. It's not getting there it's getting back

"**A**unty Alice! Mr. Hatter man! It's time to come out!" Mirana practically jumped on poor Tarrant, her fluffy white dress spread out on the floor. "We have to get you guys ready. You both need baths, and fresh clothes, and are you guys even packed?" she went on in the bossy manner of a little girl.

They blushed, realizing they probably did smell a little after at least five days locked in a room. After Mirana got off Tarrant, they climbed the staircase, and ran a bath. Tarrant insisted Alice should use the water while it was still warm, and she hesitantly left him behind. It felt odd, leaving him in another room. Alice undressed quickly, getting in the tub.

She had the strange urge to run out of the room, and tackle him with sweet kisses, and perhaps a bit more... She clamped down on her thought quickly. She shouldn't just go around the house naked, but it was so hard to be away from him! As she dressed, skipping the drying off, she admired the new markings a bit closer.

Over the center, which was just below the hallow of her throat, was a hat, and on either side of it were teacups. She believed it had something to do with how they met. She smiled at the thought as she left the room, only to find a half- naked Tarrant.

His back was to her, and she could see the scars on his body. She quietly walked up to him and ran her hands over the raised marks. Tarrant shifted his shoulders, rolling them back, and stiffled a moan. Her touch had been tempting before, but never THIS tempting. The wedding had better come soon, or his test of endurance would prove him weak.

"I'd- I'd better let you get in the bath," Alice struggled with herself to take her hands off him.

He slowly made his way to the bathroom, and Alice sighed.

It was going to be a long courtship.

**I**t had been two Underland months since the White Queen Mirana had heard from her friends. She had figures out that time speeds up in Underland when Alice was away, and slowed in Aboveworld when she was in Underland, but occasionally, it would speed up even faster. Time had been playing a mean trick on all of them for so long. Mirana had a nice chat with Time, and now he started behaving better, and told her the actual formula that time was supposed to run on in the difference in Underland and Aboveworld.

The White Queen sighed. Sure, neither one of their jobs were necessary at the moment, but their company was missed. And soon, she WOULD need a champion. Otherwise, how else would the Trials of Marriage begin? It was a big tradition, after all, that the champion of the reigning queen light the fire and pick the best choice for Mirana! And how else would the famous Mad Hatter Hightopp get his private courtship public? Mirana, Thakery, and Chess were the only ones that knew!

She wondered what they would be returning with. Perhaps a few of Alice's trinkets? No, Alice was not that needing of trinkets. Perhaps another photo album, or a few tokens of her travels? She was soon to find out, as the Orraculum proclaimed this the day they would return. Or at least, that's what Absalom told her. He wouldn't let her see it today, the pesky butterfly. If she didn't have her vows...

"Considering something, your majesty?" a voice drawled beside her.

"Yes, I was wondering why I, the White Queen, am FORBIDDEN by one little butterfly as to why today is so special in the Orraculum." Mirana turned to the now fully formed floating Chessur. "You didn't happen to take a peek...?"

"No. Absalom caught me and shut it before I could get a good look. Mumbled something about a prophetess." Chess looked out to the gardens, and widened his smile. "Here they come. I'll be seeing you all later, I presume."

Mirana nodded fairfarren and whipped around to see the bright light.


	28. The problem with traveling by opal

**A**fter they had their baths, Alice and Tarrant were attached at the hip, yet struggling to be apart. They packed what little they brought with them, and then left the bags at the door, though Alice didn't know why. The opal hung around Alice's neck, and she could wish them home to Underland anywhere.

Mirana made a bag for her dolls of the White Queen, Tarrant, and Chessur, her three favorites. Helen was tearful, muttering that all goodbyes were sad ones. She would straiten already strait things, and tidied already clean objects. She even made them eat lunch.

They picked at the clam chowder, as they found themselves far too concerned with how they were going to get home safely with Mirana. The hours passed, and finally, the issue could not be ignored any longer.

"Will you write to me?" Helen asked, hugging her daughter tight.

"Of course. It will be brought through a mirror, though. And we'll be here for Christmas." Alice stood between Tarrant and Mirana.

"That'll be soon for us, but we'll get here in time." Tarrant assured her, and Helen gave him a hug as well. Then she drew him at arms length, and was very stern.

"Don't you get yourself hurt doing something silly. And NO more sadness around ME. You can hold your head up high, young man, because you are a FINE gentleman."

"Y-yes Mrs. Kingsleigh." he stammered. Even though he was head and shoulders taller than her, she was able to scare sense into him with her stern face.

Mirana gave her a hug. "I'll miss you, Grandma Kingsleigh. I'll write you letters about how well Chessie is, okay?"

"Alright, sweetie," Helen choked out. "Be good for Auntie Alice and Mr. Hightopp."

"Yep!" Mirana chirped, and clasped Alice's hand and her suitcase, her bag of dolls across her back.

Tarrant picked up the other suitcases in one hand, and took Alice's other hand. Alice squeezed her eyes shut, and thought of Underland with all her being.

The familiar falling feeling took over, only this time, a bright light caressed their forms.

It was beautiful, until they hit the ground.

**T**he gardens of Mamoreal weren't so soft when you fall upon them in a jumble. Thankfully, Mirana was on top of the jumble, so she was perfectly fine. Tarrant, however, was not so lucky.

"Ach! Guddler's scut!" he yelled, and Alice heard a sickly crunching noise.

Alice jumped up quickly, and screamed at what she saw. She had slain a Jabberwhocky, but she was terrified as she looked upon Tarrant's broken arm. The bone was not sticking out, nor was there blood, but his forearm was bent at an odd angle. However, he seemed to be the calmest about it.

"Alice, calm down! Mmph," he sucked in breath through his teeth, and the White Queen Mirana was on the scene.

"Oh dear! Well, let's get you patched up, shall we? I should have warned you that traveling by opal is often the most dangerous." she ushered them inside the grand oak doors, painted white of course, and led them to her apothecary.

She sat Tarrant down, and Alice brought in little Mirana.

"Oh my! Time must have stopped here for a LONG time." the White Queen looked at Mirana in surprise.

"No, this is my niece, who is named Mirana, after you. She's come to live with us." Alice explained while Queen Mirana got out several strange ingredients, including what looked like the shriveled heart of some animal, though it was purple.

"Well, let's focus on Tarrant, shall we?" the queen smiled at her Hatter while setting a funnel on a beaker. "Hmm. A few ounces of JubJub blood, a few hairs shaved from a lizard, the chamber of a faithful heart." she dropped the ingredients into the funnel, and blue smoke started wafting through the air. "Ah! Petals from his favorite flower!" she stepped towards Alice and clipped a lock of her hair, then threw it into the mix. "And to finish it, a cup of hot liquid love." The queen picked up a metal teapot, which matched her metal tea set, as she had Thakery in the kitchen, who broke all porcelain tea sets a while ago, and she poured a soft, steaming, and brilliant green liquid into the concoction and inhaled deeply.

"Perfect. Here, drink this while a bit is rubbed on the spot."

He did as he was told, and when the White Queen snapped the bone into place, he cursed loudly in Outlandish. Alice could tell they were curses, because when little Mirana repeated them with gusto, the queen told her never to utter those words again. Tarrant looked a bit abashed, but when he moved his arm, it was perfect.

"Your potions are as good as ever, your majesty." Tarrant smiled, testing the newly fixed arm.

"I'll never get over how quickly they work." Alice sighed in relief, and little Mirana stepped over to the queen.

"I know you too! You're the White Queen!" she glowed with glee. "The man I always

see with you in my dreams is the White King, too!... Wait, where is he?"

"I haven't met him yet. Don't tell me what he looks like, though. I want it to be a surprise." the queen smiled. Prophetess, indeed. "Perhaps we need to find you some chambers?"

"No need. Auntie Alice likes to spend nights with Mr. Hatter man talking, so I'll just stay in hers, okay?"

A furious blush crossed the couples faces, and the older Mirana had to stifle a laugh.

"Well then, I guess we'll move on to what to call you. We can't have the both of us named Mirana." the queen squatted down gracefully to meet her eye level.

"I want to be called... Mira, I guess." the little one put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "It's close enough to my old name without mixing us up. Yes, Mira is what I shall be named."

"Mira, I have a few rules to go over with you, for your safety here. Not all of Underland is a good place. The Outlands, where the desert is, you cannot go there, or the forest of lost ones. Otherwise, you'll forget everything, and only people who can remember can get back home." Mirana was gentle with her commandments, and Mira listened very closely.

"And now, it is almost time for supper. Come, let us get you all at the table. Everyone has been worried about where you both were, and I'm sure they all will want to meet Mira." the queen airily waved a hand a she stood up and led the way to the dining hall.


	29. A goodnight and morning to you, grouchy!

**T**he hall was filled, and Mirana whispered something to McTwisp, who blew his trumpet and began his introductions.

"Introducing Lady Alice, Royal Hatter Hightopp, and the niece of the champion, Lady Mira."

The dinner was much more pleasant this time, as Alice and Tarrant had separate plates, and Mira chatted through most of it. They both blissfully ignored it.

Before bed, Alice brushed Mira's hair and started to braid it.

"Auntie Alice?" Mira looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

"Yes, Mira?" Alice stopped her ministrations for a moment.

"When are you and Mr. Hatter man getting married?"

"When we feel like we are ready, and we get everything set up for it." Alice answered it easily, as it was all true.

"It will be a little after Christmas." Mira corrected her, and a chill swept over.

"Ah! That reminds me!" Mirana stood on her dias, warranting everyone's attention. "Everyone, I have an announcement!"

Her breathless, yet authoritative voice caught the courtiers' attention and kept it. "In just a few days, the Trials of Marriage will begin, so I would like to give my gratitude to my Champion Alice, who will be helping me choose my king from all of the royals and courtiers of Underland. I have faith that the choice will be the right one."

Alice blanched. She was going to CHOOSE Mirana's husband? She noticed Tarrant stiffened as well. Just WHAT did that job entail?

The rest of the dinner went off without so much as a whisper about them being together, but there were many that said that Mira looked very much like Alice. To be honest, she looked like a combination of Alice and Mirana, taking on all of their best qualities.

They all went outside to view the stars, but Alice, Tarrant, Mira, and Mirana stayed out the longest. It wasn't until Mira started yawning did they realize the time.

"Perhaps we should all retire, the hour is late." Mirana daintily made her way to the castle of Mamoreal. "Fairfarren, all."

"Goodnight," Alice called back, and Tarrant picked up the now sleeping Mira in his arms, cradling her small form.

They walked up the white marble stone path, and as the rocking horseflies and the fire light flies flew about, snipping at each other, they left the gardens. The doors were still open, and frog butlers closed them behind the group. Then they were alone, and they took Mira to bed. She snuggled in with the light blue blankets, and Alice stroked her hair. Mira stirred and opened her eyes.

"Chess?" she mumbled. "Where's my Chess?"

"Here, go to sleep, Mira. It's been a long day." Tarrant gave her the Chessur doll, and rubbed a thumb over her cheek until she fell asleep.

Alice quietly left the room, finding she loved the thought of Tarrant being a family man. She made her way into Tarrant's bedchamber to find a long nightdress waiting for her, folded neatly on the bed. She dressed quickly, not wanting to upset Tarrant by having him accidentally see the part of the Soul Bond he wasn't supposed to see yet.

Just as she finished fastening the last clasp, Tarrant strolled in after a light knock on the door. He slowed his walk to a stop, and gazed at her lovingly.

"You look stunning," he complemented her. "Even though I can't see all of you."

He took off his jacket and vest, carefully folding them over a nearby chair, which was a bright pink. Alice looked away as he got completely undressed and dressed in his nightclothes. He had them made as pants and shirt, in case he needed to defend Mamoreal from attack years ago, and he had grown to like them. After he was decent, he took her hand and led her to the bed.

"Goodnight, my dearest Alice," Tarrant murmured in her ear, and he laid down beside her.

She snuggled next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, and after a while, they fell asleep.

**T**hey were still asleep when the sun was just beginning to rise. Mira quietly slipped into the room and slowly climbed onto the bed. She crawled up to the head of the bed, where the two lovers were sleeping. She ran her small fingers through Tarrant's hair, and he stirred. She giggled, then placed her Chessur doll on his forehead.

He opened his eyes to meet bright blue- green button eyes, and he sat up. His bed shirt was unbuttoned and Mira placed a hand on the red vines tracing along his shoulder.

"Mr. Hatter man, are you awake?" she asked in a whisper.

"Now I am," he responded sleepily.

"Good! Help me wake up Aunty Alice." she started rubbing Alice's shoulder. "Time to get up, Aunty Alice!"

"Noooo, go away, want sleep." Alice mumbled back.

Tarrant joined in. "Alice, it's morning. It's time to get up."

"No! No getting up, go away Tarrant." she turned over and clung to her pillow. Mira hurrumphed and strode to the window, and threw open the curtains, letting in the bright light.

"Dammit, I said leave me alone!" Alice shrieked, and Tarrant blinked in surprise. How grumpy she was in the morning!

"Alice, we have to get you ready for the Trials of Marriage," Tarrant pleaded.

"Fine," she grumped, and rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes.

Tarrant had to smile at her cuteness.


	30. Friendships in ruins, Mira's love

"**Y**ou have GOT to be kidding me." Alice placed a hand on her hip, scrutinizing the skimpy clothing Tarrant held in front of her.

"This is the traditional clothing worn by the champion. Rules have already been bent to include the top portion." he indicated the long sleeved shirt that was with the kilt. "This is the Mamoreal tartan, with the Champion's Seal and the Hightopp Clan's crest, clipping the collar to it. I don't want to accidentally see your Soul Bond mark before we're married. You need to put this on and wear it, so you can't feel uncomfortable in it."

He handed her the outfit and turned around. She changed into it quickly.

"So what are we doing today?" Alice conversed while she slid on the kilt.

"Well, we have to spread our good news with our friends, so I arranged for a tea party to be held today." Tarrant responded, his arm extended to take her dress, which she gave.

"Alright, that sounds good." Alice turned in front of the mirror, a bit embarrassed by how little the kilt covered. "Tarrant, could I borrow some socks?"

A few minutes later, Alice was fully dressed in plaid, which consisted of white, cream, and black. The Champion's Seal upon it looked like a coat of arms made of the vorpal sword and the castle of Mamoreal. Her fiance's mismatched socks reached her knees. They both had green on them, but on was striped and the other was spotted with orange.

Tarrant thought she looked lovely, even in this ugly outfit of mismatched colors. It worked for him, as his clothes were mismatched as well. As they left the walls of Mamoreal, they played a guessing game.

"I'm thinking of something small," Alice put a finger to her chin as she pictured it in her mind.

"Is it a bread and butterfly?" Tarrant pointed to one, and it landed on his outstretched

finger.

"No, guess again."

"Mally?"

"Try once more."

"Hmm...A thimble?" he gave a final, random guess.

"Right!" she cried, and she threw her arms around him and gave him a quick kiss. It took everything in her not to continue, as they had reached the line of tables in front of the windmill.

The tablecloth was threadbare, but spotless. All of the broken china tea sets had been swept off of the Persian rugs. The chipped plates were still there, mismatched, but the tea and cakes were fresh upon them. Music played, sending a cheerful tune into the air. Tarrant gave Alice his jacket.

"We want to surprise them with the news, right?" he winked, and a blush crossed Alice's face.

"Hell, Hatta!...Alice," Mallymkin was delighted to see Tarrant, but grumbled at seeing Alice with him.

"Yehr late fer TEA!" Thakery threw a teapot, which crashed behind them.

"Good afternoon, Alice!" Tweedledee greeted her.

"No, no! It's still morning!" Tweedledum shoved his twin, and they began a shoving match.

Alice smiled at them, then sat in her seat next to the head of the tables, which was where Tarrant sat. A smile spread across his face, and he placed his hand over hers on the table. A frown flashed across Mallymkin's face.

"So, anyone for tea?" Chessur poofed into his seat, lifting the teapot and serving the Tweedles' cups, at which time they stopped pushing each other and sipped.

"...Cup..." Thakery offered his, but his hand was shaking the cup so much Chess had difficulty pouring for him. He sighed and looked to Tarrant and Alice. "Anything new..?" he prompted.

"Well..." Tarrant nervously looked to Alice.

"Um..." she responded.

"Just out with it!" Tweedledee impatiently interrupted.

"Contrariwise, take your time!" Tweedledum interjected.

"Just let them say it!" Mally snapped. "Hatta, what news will you share with us?"

"Well, I'm not sure we should share it today." he nervously looked at Alice again, and squeezed her hand.

"Alice, wot's he talkin' about?" Mally strode up to her. "And why are you wearing 'is coat?" she pushed the cuff of the sleeve up, showing a clear view of the back of Alice's hand. She gasped at the blue vines that twined around a teacup in Alice's Soul Bond mark. "No."

"...Mally?" Alice was concerned for her friend. "Mally, are you alright?"

"NO! This was NOT how this was supposed to happen! This is NOT what I planned

for!" she stabbed Alice in the hand with her hat pin, and as Alice flinched, blue blood beaded on the wound. "I was supposed to have Hatta! ME! I've been there for him SO much LONGER!"

"Mally, I'm sorry you feel that way." Tarrant's eyes were the bluest blue. "I had hoped you would be happy for us. That you would be so kind as to be a bridesmaid."

"BRIDESMAID?" Mally shrieked. "You're already married in the eyes of Witzend, but you want a WEDDING as well? Well, don't expect ME to be a part of it!" Mally jumped from the table, and tears formed in Alice's eyes.

Tarrant leaned over and gathered her in his arms. "Now, now. Don't cry, I'm sure she's just in shock. She'll come back and apologize, and we'll all be a happy family again."

"We hurt her, Tarrant. We kept a secret from her, and she's hurt. She's not coming back. She's a woman scorned." Alice sobbed, and the Tweedles joined in on the hug. Chess fluffed his tail around her shoulders, when Mally came back screaming.

"Just came back to drop THIS off! Was following you two in the woods! Can't BELIEVE you two!"

"She's my niece," Alice explained, but Mally had already scampered away, crying and fostering a hatred for Alice.

"Aunty Alice, why is Mallymkin so mad?" Mira held Alice's hand. "And why are you crying?"

Alice smiled sadly and sniffled, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Oh, nothing much, Mira. She is a bit upset the Mr. Hightopp and I are getting married."

"Of course she's upset. She's been in love with Mr. Hatter man for as long as you've been alive! But Mr. Hatter man loves Aunty Alice more than anything in the whole wide world!" Mira hugged them tight. "I'll be there for you!"

Chessur went stiff, and stopped reaching for Tarrant's hat as his blue- green eyes laid on the little girl.

"Who is that?" Chess murmured to Tarrant.

"That's going to be my niece, Mira." Tarrant answered, and Mira looked up in response to her name.

"Chessur! You're here! I've been looking for you for YEARS, silly!"


	31. A chilling prediction

**T**hat night, Mira chatted nonstop to Chess, and Chessur chatted right back. Tarrant had never seen Chessur care about anything this much before. As they ate supper, Alice shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. Why couldn't people wear bloomers under kilts? Her mind wandered to the Frabjous Day. Handing a full plate to Mira, who wrinkled her nose at the purple meats and blue lettuce, Alice focused on Tarrant's attire that day. Had he been... without any breeches? Her face heated, and upon crossing her eyes, noticed her face was pink, and at this knowledge, it deepened to a red.

Tarrant noticed this, and upon asking her about it, the blush deepened even further,

coloring the tips of her ears.

"Just... never mind, I'll ask later." Alice answered quietly, and she focused her mind on other things.

Mira nudged Mirana, and the queen turned her attention to Alice. "So, when do you plan to get married?"

They looked at each other, then answered together. "Just after Christmas."

"Christmas?" the White Queen took interest, and Tarrant launched into the long story of Aboveworld's Jesus. She was animated with interest, and clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! We should have our own Christmas as well! What a wonderful way to celebrate a birthday!" she breathlessly exclaimed. She raised from her dias. "Well, after all this excitement, I believe it is time for bed."

Everyone stood to leave, and both Alice and Tarrant took one of Mira's hands. They led her to Alice's old room, and she squealed in delight, trying to run from Alice, who was chasing her with a nightgown, laughing all the way.

Tarrant swooped down when she was dressed for bed, and scooped her up, swinging her around while she giggled madly, and he helped her into bed.

"Goodnight, Mr. Hatter man. What's happening tomorrow?" she looked up at him with her big wet eyes.

"Well, tomorrow, your Aunty Alice will be choosing a husband for the queen, or at least start choosing." Tarrant pondered at this for a moment, but Mira interrupted his thought with her own prediction.

"He'll be the one with the pocket watch. His name is Time."

Tarrant's blood ran cold.

Author's note: sorry this chapter is so short. I just wanted to separate the sex from the other stuff, because I don't want people who don't like reading that kind of stuff to miss important parts of the plot. Fair warning: the next chapter is dirty, so if you have delicate sensibilities, skip it and move on!


	32. Where no thimble has gone before

**T**he morning was far away, at least that's what Tarrant said to himself. He climbed into bed, now in his pajamas, covered in multicolored thimbles. He had just settled in for the night, when Alice came in. She was still wearing the white kilt and tartan, and she carelessly tossed her boots into a corner. She had not noticed that he was there, and she slowly stripped off his socks she had borrowed from him. She then removed the tartan and folded it slowly, and Tarrant sat up, eager to see more.

She undid her hair, and golden curls tumbled down her back, then removed her shirt, revealing her bare back, without even a chemise. Naughty. She undid her kilt's buttons, and it pooled around her feet. As any person wearing a kilt, she wasn't wearing any knickers.

"I know you're already in bed," she said, her back still to him. She bent down and picked up the kilt, gently folding it. "And I don't really mind."

Tarrant felt a different kind of madness well up inside his mind. She turned around, and he almost lost himself as he gazed at her nude body. She was a goddess in her own right, and Tarrant realized her Soul Bond mark was not showing. A small bandage was wrapped from her collar bone to the tops of her breasts, just barely covering the part of the mark he wasn't meant to see yet. He briefly marveled at how thoughtful his Alice was, when she

stalked, very much like a jungle cat, to the bed, and climbed onto it.

"Do you know what my first task is tomorrow?" Alice traced a finger down his arm, and an itch overtook his skin.

"You must ask a riddle, and then fight all the suitors who answer it correctly."

"Yes, and that means I could die. I would like to make love to my husband before that, though."

He blushed, but nodded in agreement. "But," he warned her. "If I become mad, we must stop, and you cannot let me see your mark. Technically, we are married under the Soul Bond, so this is still right, but I want you to be an honest woman, Alice. I'll make sure of it."

He took off his nightshirt, and gave Alice a small kiss, and let it grow into a burning passionate kiss. A fire started in Alice's core, and Tarrant took off his pajama pants, dropping them over the side of the bed. His own red Soul Bond mark shone brilliantly, and Alice traced the vines to the top hat symbol over his heart, then twirled a finger through the sparse orange curls on his chest. Tarrant ran a hand up Alice's waist and took a breast into his palm, lightly brushing a thumb over her nipple. Her breath hitched, and the fire grew. He repeated the action with the other breast, and she ran her hands through his hair. He laid her on her back, and she shut her eyes and went rigid.

"Alice? Why are you like that?" Tarrant raised a wild brow at her.

"Margaret told me that when you make love, you are to hold still and think of spring time meadows." Alice blinked at him.

"Well, I doubt that will be necessary," Tarrant chuckled, and slid his hand up her leg. She almost melted into butter. "You're so soft, Alice. Like a cloud, full of love and I'm ready to return it."

He slipped a hand between her legs, and she opened them for him. Alice gasped when his fingers started playing with her folds, and he slipped a finger inside.

"Is...is it supposed... to feel like this?" she breathlessly asked.

"Only if I'm doing this right." Tarrant replied, and he probed her opening, watching her back arch in pleasure.

A gleam came into his green, rapidly turning violet gaze, and he pulled his finger out. Alice groaned in protest, but he returned it with another, feeling her grow wet with arousal. He lifted her legs, and placed them on his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she gasped as his head ducked to her most intimate of areas, and he dragged his tongue along her opening.

The pleasure was so strong it hurt, and Alice bucked wildly. Tarrant grinned and repeated his action, slowly as possible. The moan she made was loud, and she sighed his name in ecstasy. He dipped his tongue into her, and tasted her inside, and took his thimble- clad thumb, pressing it to her group of nerves. It was all she could take, and she cried out his name. As she wildly convulsed, a thought came to her, though it was weak. No, she couldn't be, she SHOULDN'T be...

"Tarrant?" she asked between ragged breaths.

"No, you're not relieving yourself," he smiled as he lapped up her juices, "That is the feeling of completion, of orgasm. And it tastes so sweet."

He finished drinking her nectar and gave her a kiss, and she tasted her own juices. It tasted... well, it didn't HAVE a taste, except for a faint sweetness about it.

"I won't take you fully until we are properly married though," Tarrant laid beside her, and she felt a weight on her thigh.

She looked down and saw his...madness, and she got an idea. A crazy, mad, wonderful idea. His eyes were hooded, violet and lustful, but they flew wide open when Alice ran a finger down his length.

"Alice?" Tarrant looked to her, and saw her muchness in full force.

"Tell me, darling. When you glanced in that teapot when we met, how much of me did you see?" another three fingers and a thumb wrapped around him.

"I saw all of you, and it took everything in me not to take you into the windmill and make love to you, with upelkuchen of course." he stopped abruptly when she moved her hand up and down his shaft, and she smiled as his body started to shake.

She moved a bit faster, and tightened her grip, and the sounds that tore from his throat became inhuman. He was grasping at straws to figure how to speak when she was rushing this.

"A- Ahlice!" he put a hand on hers, causing her to stop. "Please don't rush it. I want to be able to enjoy this with you."

They kissed slowly and passionately as they both reached their climax, Tarrant's thimble back on her center.


	33. Time to solve a Riddle

**T**he morning came, and with it, about thirty royal- blooded men and seventeen courtier men. They arrived at all times of the morning, greeted by a kilt- clad Champion Alice. Next to her stood a little girl, who would shake her head at them as they entered, but she always did so very quickly, as to not draw attention.

Tarrant, however, was not in the greeting line. He was busy making hats, for all kinds of orders came rolling in. Just as he finished an elaborate Ayam, dozens of orders fell into the inbox. He grumped at them. How was he to defend his Alice when all these pompous courtiers kept him too busy to leave?

**Q**ueen Mirana had been observing the entire procession from the large balcony. She had noticed little Mira's disapproval at every one of them. Perhaps this was not the year? No, she forbid herself from choosing a husband purely on a little girl's whim! Even if the little girl was a prophetess. Mirana bit her lip. Just WHAT was she getting into?

Just as the gates of Mamoreal began to close, the last royal came through. He was clad in simple clothing, as if he was just a normal citizen coming to watch the first of the duels.

But his cloak flew open, and his cream colored suit shown through. His silver hair

splayed out behind him, tied with a maroon ribbon, and little Mira smiled bright. Time had ridden in on an old steed, and he dismounted, well, a bit awkwardly, his foot caught on the equine's stirrups, and the horse yelled at him to hurry up. Mirana giggled, and his smile brightened. Surely Alice would like such a funny man. After all, her own had a strange sense of humor.

**A**s Tarrant finished the very last hat, he wiped off the mercury glue that was staining his already stained hands. He jumped when the ticking invaded his mind. He looked about frantically. Surely, HE couldn't be here. But Mira had predicted it. The Hatter's eyes narrowed. His old friend Time was here.

He threw down his rag and left the Hat- Workshop. There were more important matters to attend to.

**T**ime was restless. He knew how this would end, but he had to go through the actions still. Otherwise, it would turn into a different fate. He sighed. What a botheration. The woman in the kilt was beautiful, with her long golden curls and brown eyes. But she wore a long sleeved shirt and waistcoat, like a man. It drew away from her looks. The girl beside her was constantly smiling at him. He figured this was the rumored prophetess that Aboveworld had given up. She looked quite similar to the Champion Alice. Time's eyes narrowed at the figure that approached the two young ladies.

Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter who had killed him years ago. They never did get along, but killing Time was uncalled for. Tarrant swung the girl onto his hip, and she giggled merrily. Then he kissed Champion Alice's hand, and the girl blushed. They went to stand by the White Queen.

"Welcome all, to the Trials of Marriage." she breathlessly smiled. "Today, my Champion will speak to you, and ask you my riddle. If you can solve it, you will move on, unless you wish to leave. If you fail to solve it, you will be asked to leave. But please, enjoy your stay here in Mamoreal. I wish you all the best of luck."

**A**lice rolled her head back on her shoulders. After number forty- seven, the riddle had become boring, and her throat had become sore from asking it. Only two men had solved it. She was asking a confusing riddle she had heard from an author she had read about.

"John gave James a box. The box was covered in locks. When James tried to give it back, John didn't want it, and James cried until blue. Explain their behavior."

The very last man entered, and Alice almost gasped. He was so beautiful! His long hair was silver, almost white, like Mirana's, and his smile was flawless. His wide golden eyes had watch faces instead of pupils or irises. A ticking noise filled the room.

"Hello," his voice was melodious, a soothing sound like water from a stream. "My name is Time. Please, ask me your riddle."

Author's Note: I'm sorry everyone who's been keeping a close eye on this story. I've been juggling plots here for the past few weeks, including a Snape story 'Forgetting all that is you' and a Jason Todd/Red Hood (from Batman if you didn't know) story 'Why Cardinals and Robins Never Sing Together'. I'm also getting an Abe Sapien story down on paper, and a Young Justice story (perhaps two) that interlock with the ending of the Jason Todd one. So please be patient, because I've got a lot of writing to do! ^U^


	34. A Prophecy and a Creeper

She asked him, and his laugh rang out like the chime of a grandfather clock.

"Why, that's simple! The box is a punch, the locks are James' hair, and who would WANT to receive a punch?" Time grinned broadly.

"Thank you. Please, enjoy your night here. Tomorrow we shall duel, and I wish you the best of luck." Alice shook his hand.

Time grabbed her hand, and turned it over, pushing up the sleeve. His clock eyes were wide with both anger and shock.

"Do NOT hide this mark from me!" he whispered feverishly, "You cannot keep me from this knowledge anyway!" he had tightened his grip, and it was bruising her.

"Stop! That hurts!" she tried to escape his grasp, but his grip was firm. He ran a finger up the Soul Bond mark and swirled it about a Raven.

"Three months, the bairn will bring about the start of the recovery." the ticking grew in intensity, then stopped suddenly. Time released her, looking about. "Thank you for your time..." he smiled serenely at her as he left.

Alice stared after him in confusion and fear. They really ARE all mad here!

During dinner, Tarrant couldn't help but notice that Alice was sitting as far away from Time as possible. He didn't think it was a BAD thing, quite the opposite, but she seemed... edgier. Restless and nervous. She was paler than usual, and picked at her food.

"Alice?" Tarrant touched her arm, and she flinched. "Alice, why are you so jumpy?"

"Oh, no reason. My mind's just been wandering. Thank you for bringing it back." her answers were choppy and unimaginative. Definitely not Alice-y.

"Come. Let's get you to bed. Mira!" he called for her as he aided Alice out of her chair. They walked side by side as Mira pitter- pattered down the white hallways. Tarrant noticed Alice was shaking.

"Clocks for eyes...three months... recovery...the ticking..." Alice kept mumbling.

"Alice, you're trembling. Please, just tell me what's wrong," the Hatter was beside himself with worry.

"We have to go to Aboveworld to get mother, then we will celebrate Christmas," Alice squeezed Tarrant's stained and thimble-clad hand. "Then we'll get married, and after a couple of months, according to Time, we'll prepare to be parents. Tarrant, I'm scared. What if I turn out to be a bad mother? What if I can't take care of it? What if-"

"Alice," Tarrant hugged her to him.

"I'm fine," Alice smiled weakly.

"You'll be a wonderful mother. Have faith, it will be fine," Tarrant led her to their room, and he let her in. "I'll go tuck in Mira, then I'll be right back."

Alice nodded, and went to change into her nightclothes. Her hand slid over the soft fabrics of the furniture, in a daze.

As she took off her clothes, a figure stood on the balcony, watching. His orange hair swayed softly in the evening breeze, his violet eyes glowing in greed. On his lips played a

deadly grin, and his blades shined in the reflected artificial light of the lamps.

"Soon. Not now, but soon," Chawldon whispered as he leapt over the edge.

Alice looked over to her balcony, but saw nothing. She thought she imagined hearing something.

Author's note: Ok, so hiatus didn't last that long. Truth is, I've kept some of the writing in a vault, and have been releasing a little bit at a time. But thanks to one very nice reviewer, CraZy-InsaNe995

you get this chapter and maybe a bit more, if you ask very nicely. But seriously guys. I have 34 chapters now, and a pitiful amount of reviews. It has less reviews than my seven chaptered Snape fanfiction on here, and even less than the Jason Todd fanfiction (That one I have requests for sequels ^U^ yay!)


	35. Cowardly princes and a grudge to resolve

The morning was hectic, but not from the business of everyone. Tarrant was worried beyond measure as he sat next to Mira in the newly built stadium, watching Alice warm up with stretches. Her longer kilt was blue, with a cream colored long sleeved shirt with a blue vest. As the first suitor entered the arena, she straitened and took hold of the claymore Tarrant had let her borrow. He drained his glass of squimberry wine. It was going to be a very long day.

Alice was more than a little nervous, and her breathing quickened pace when the first suitor, a prince of part of the Outlands, Prince...something or other, Alice didn't really care about his name, entered as pompously as possible. His scepter was gilded silver, and he carelessly tossed it to the ground, and a servant monkey rushed to give him a saber to replace it.

She barely hid her disgust at such arrogance. Alice would have asked this one to leave, but he answered the riddle.

"I hope you can fight better than you ask riddles, Champion," the Prince laughed, and Alice gripped the claymore tighter than before. She hoped she was, too.

"On this day, we are here to see the battle between our Champion Alice and Prince Cannmyd." Nivens seemed to appear from nowhere, announcing the battle. Alice looked up to the stands to see Mirana in her white throne, then searched the crowd. Next to little Mira sat Tarrant, a pained and worried shade of yellow in his eyes, almost that sick mustard hue. She turned her attention back to the fight. "Are both parties ready?"

The prince sneered. "Ready as ever, Rabbit."

Nivens was affronted, and Alice patted his shoulder. "Ready as I'll ever be, McTwisp. Go on."

"Don't let this brute win," Nivens whispered, and he blew his trumpet. "Let the battle begin!"

Immediately the prince began lunging for her, and it was all Alice could do to defend herself. The claymore was heavy, and it made her arms ache with effort to swing it properly. It made her realize just how strong Tarrant had to be.

The saber was light and fast, and Alice struggled with her defense. Her feet were faster though, and she hooked a leg around the prince's stance, knocking him to the ground. Alice brought the claymore to his neck.

"Surrender," she ordered. "And leave tonight."

"I yield." the now fearful prince was sweating profusely. Alice was sickened by him.

She turned to leave the arena, not noticing the prince standing and grabbing his saber. He silently raised the blade to strike.

"AHLICE!" Tarrant's brogue turned his eyes orange. The prince fell to the ground before Alice could turn, a dirk knife deep in his wrist.

"Guards, please escort Prince Cannmyd away from Mamoreal immediately. This will obviously NOT be my husband, which is not a pity in my eyes." Mirana stood tall in all her white wrath.

Mumbling people made a loud roar in the stadium, and Tarrant hurried out of the stands, Mira clutching his hip, running toward his Alice. She was stunned, shocked, scared, but standing. She had been considering things that began with the letter S.

"Oh, Alice, are you alright?" Tarrant put down Mira and hugged Alice to him, with Mira following suit. His eyes were yellow- green, a sign that his mood was worried still, but getting better.

Alice's eyes did something unusual. They turned light hazel for a moment before that returned to their normal chocolate brown.

"Yes, I guess so." she slowly melted into the hug. She looked up at him. "That claymore is heavy, and I'm so weak. How can I do this?"

"Well, another champion could be called into action, but you must draw blood in a duel before that can happen." Tarrant hugged her closer.

"I can't breathe!" Alice poked her head out of the embrace. "And I'll do this myself. Only three more, right?"

"Yes, only three." Tarrant's gaze landed on Time. Orange tinted the fierce green of his eyes as they locked on the watch faces in Time's.


	36. A new relationship and a new Champion

Mira played by herself in the garden. That was fine with her. When she was in London, the other kids didn't play with her either. She was judged by her visions of the future. Mira didn't mind. They were too dull to play with anyway.

"Feeling a bit lonely?" a familiar voice drawled.

"Chess!" Mira whipped around. "I've missed you!"

"And I you," Chessur replied. "Would you like to play a game?"

"Oh, yes!" Mira bounced on her feet. "Hide and Seek! I'm the best at that game!"

Chess's eyes dilated in pleasure. He was well acquainted with the game. Quite well, as he played it every day of his life. "I'll count then."

"Alright! But no peeking," Mira grew serious, wagging a finger before she ran off.

Chessur began to count aloud, and Mira giggled as she bounced into the rose maze. It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

The second day arrived, and Tarrant was even more worried than the day before. Alice was on the field once more, but today, two matches were to take place, and she was still tired from dragging his claymore around the first day. He had found her a lighter sword, but it wouldn't do much damage compared to the first.

The trumpets sounded, and the White Queen stood at her throne. She was dressed in

a fine cream colored frothy gown, with a rose pink cloche with a cream ribbon in a bow wrapped around it.

"Today, our Champion will duel the Duke of Spades, and this afternoon will face the Knave of Clubs. I wish all three of them a safe battle, and the best of luck." she announced in her breathless manner, and with her arms raised in their dainty way, she sat on the throne.

The Duke of Spades arrived in the arena, his battle regalia shining with gilded buttons. The display of wealth sickened Alice and Tarrant alike, as their own queen was modest and kind. But, once again, he solved the riddle, so there was nothing they could do. His face was pinched, like a pug's, and his pepper black hair had wisps of shining silver; he was old as well.

His weapon of choice was an ax, sharp and shimmering in the light, though it was worn from battle. The Spades had been quite a violent house until the queen Iracebeth of Crims took over.

Alice swallowed hard. A sword might be fast, but an ax is stronger. Tarrant knew this as well, and suddenly he wished fervently that he could take Alice's place.

The trumpets sounded again, and the Duke charged towards Alice. She only had enough time to lift her sword, blocking a deadly blow. However, her legs were vulnerable, and the Duke swept under them, knocking her to the ground. She rolled over before the ax could slice open her face. Tarrant stood in his seat, willing Alice to forfeit. He and everyone else knew the Spades always craved bloodshed.

The Duke swung again, and it locked with Alice's sword. He grinned, and to Alice's horror, he twisted the ax until it snapped the sword in two. Panic overwhelmed her, and she lashed out with the piece of blade she held, knowing that he would not stop until she was dead.

A stripe of blue blood seeped from the Duke's arm, and the White Queen stood.

"This fight has been finished. Duke of Spades, lower your weapon," Mirana ordered, but the Duke kept advancing on Alice. "I said lower your weapon!"

The ax fell to the ground, and the Duke's hands wrapped around Alice's throat. His green eyes became crazed, even more so than her beloved Tarrant's. She fell to her knees, the lack of oxygen slowly killing her.

"I will rule Underland," growled the Duke, but his menacing declaration was interrupted by White Soldiers dragging him away.

Alice fell, a curtain of golden curls covering her face, her body splayed out on the dirt- covered floor of the arena.

"Alice!" Tarrant rushed to her side, cradling her form against him and cursing himself for not being faster. "Alice, please be alive. I can't lose you." His eyes turned that awful grey that had been so familiar in the last decade. "I just had you back."

Her cold hand stroked his tear- streaked face, and Alice opened her eyes. "I am still here. You still have me. Tarrant, darling, I'm here."

He looked at her sweat covered face, taking in the bruises forming over the old ones. "That's all I can take." he stood up, carrying her limp form. "Queen of White," he called up to Mirana. "I request to take her place as Champion of Underland."


	37. Enter manly battle title here

**T**he White Queen considered this for a moment, taking in the poor condition of her dear Champion Alice.

"Granted. By my power, I deem you Champion Tarrant Hightopp."

**M**ira was sent to play with Chessur and the Tweedles, and Tarrant carried Alice to their room.

"You didn't have to do that." Alice glared at him. "Now we'll BOTH be hurt."

"Not necessarily." Tarrant casually replied. "I've a much better reach, I'm stronger, and I have more experience with a sword."

"Gee, thanks," Alice rolled her brown eyes.

"My point is that I'm sure everything will be fine." He set her down on the soft linens of their bed. "I'll be back after the fight," he rubbed his bandaged thumb on a spot of dirt on her cheek. "And then we can throw ourselves in a bath for a while."

She smiled at him, and watch him go. It was silent for a few moments, and she sighed.

"Be safe."

The arena was silent as the new Champion of Underland entered. His Hightopp Clan regalia was in prime condition, the plaid of his family upon his kilt. He left his hat with Chessur, who was more than happy to receive it. It would be more difficult to get it back.

Mirana stood upon her dias. "After careful deliberation, it has been decided that the only suitable bachelor for my hand is Time. Therefore," the crowd became unsettled, and she had to raise her voice. "Therefore, the last battle is to take place now!"

Time stood on the other side of the arena, clad in shining bronze armor. His silvery white hair was bound with the maroon ribbon, but a few strands had escaped, framing his strong features. In his left hand he grasped a sword, in his right was a pocket watch.

"Right on time," Time closed the watch and tucked it away. "Ready?"

"Aye, as I'll ever be," Tarrant hefted his claymore, just as McTwisp lifted his trumpet to his trembling lips.

"Begin!" ordered Mirana, and swords clashed as the trumpet blew, cut short by McTwisp's panic.

They were a dance of blades and footwork. Sparks flared from the connecting metal. Tarrant's mismatched knee socks were a flurry of blues and black. Time's silver hair whipped about, the maroon ribbon loosening rapidly. Sunlight reflected off his bronze armor, and Tarrant's eyes blazed the same.

"I must admit, Mr. Hightopp," Time laughed. "That it is good to see your face again. But tell me. Would you be able to handle me having power over you?"

"As long as you let me have my Alice, I'll be fine." Tarrant kept calm. That was always Time's strategy against him, to rile him into making a critical mistake. That was the name of the game.

"But you know, as time goes on, she'll become as mad as you are." Time huffed, narrowly missing Tarrant's vital points.

"LIAR!" Tarrant's eyes became as red as rubies, the lids of his eyes turning the blackest coal black possible. He swung, striking a weak link in Time's breastplate, and it fell to the ground with a clatter. He held the claymore to Time's heart. "Yield."

"I yield." Time dropped his blade. "But you know I'm right."

"The victory goes to my Champion." Mirana announced. "But Time is still my choice of husband. He is the only one to have taken failure in a way becoming of a king."

Tarrant's blood ran cold, the red of his eyes fading to a sickly yellow. Time never did like him. And the feeling was mutual. But to be under the careful watch of him as Time ruled over Underland? He wasn't sure if he had contemplated that little nugget of information. Hopefully they could put their past behind them and move on.

"I... I have to go see Alice," Tarrant tried to put together a coherent sentence.

"I hope to see you soon, Champion Laird Hightopp." Time shook hands with him, his watch face eyes on the White Queen.

Tarrant wasted no time in getting to their room. He bullied the doorknob, getting it to open, and rushed to Alice's side. Her eyes were flashing orange.

"Alice, are you alright?" Tarrant lightly shook her shoulder. "Alice?"


	38. panic attacks and the bliss of ignorance

"Alice? Alice, can you hear me?" Tarrant started to panic. He had hoped that it would be years before the madness had gotten this far. Her eyes rolled wildly in her head, and she convulsed upon the bed. Tarrant hugged her close, and tears started to form in his eyes. "Oh, Alice, I'm so sorry."

"Tarrant?" Alice whispered. "Is...Is that you?" Her body went rigid, and Tarrant hugged her closer.

"Yes. Yes, Alice, it's me. Are you alright?" Tarrant pulled her to arms length to inspect her. "Do you remember anything?"

"Yes." Alice looked at him with worried brown eyes. "I was in a cluttered corner. A loud voice was telling me to do horrible things. I don't like the voice, Tarrant. It scares me."

"That... That was the madness." Tarrant sighed. "I was hoping that it wouldn't affect you like this. You see, every Hightopp that has a handling in haberdashery has succumbed to the Hightopps Madness, wether they be a hatter themselves, or if they are Soul Bonded to one who is. But of course, I should have told you that."

"No, it's fine. I understand why you wouldn't." Alice brushed her hand over Tarrant's cheek. "There is nothing to be apologetic about. Besides, it would happen eventually. We can get through this together. What do you think triggered the reaction?"

"Two possibilities. Either you succumbed to extreme rage, or my brother was near."

Tarrant's green eyes took on a yellow hue, and Alice's did the same.

"You don't mean that, do you? I mean, for all we know, your brother could be dead. There were hundreds of unaccounted for at the hands of the Red Queen." Alice tried to reason the worry away, but it just wouldn't leave. "We don't need to worry about it now, though. We have to put on a brave face for Mira, and for the rest of Underland. They look to us for stability, just as they look to Mirana for leadership. We are the faces of the new society."

"You're right. We must put this at the back of our minds for now, and enjoy the present. I'm glad you're feeling better, though. I was scared that I had lost you." Tarrant brushed a strand of golden curls from Alice's face.

"Well, I advise you to stop thinking like that. I won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Mira was laying upon the grass of the gardens with Chessur, having enjoyed her day. She had no idea that her aunt had a breakdown, or that Mr. Hatter Man was worried about them. All she knew was that Chessur was her bestest friend, and she would be with him until the end of time.

"Mira?" the cat drawled, his smile growing ever so smoothly.

"Yes, Chessur?" she looked over to him and gazed into his teal eyes.

"I've a secret to tell you." he looked at his paw nonchalantly, and Mira's eyes grew wide with excitement.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything. After all, I'll eventually see it in my dreams anyway." she tried to play cool, but her childish nature gave her away. To be honest, she had never seen him but briefly in her dreams as her husband. But with every changed decision, the dreams would change. She would try to influence the outcome how she liked.

"I can become a human, if I wish." Chessur gave her a naughty smile, like the cat that ate the canary, so to speak.

"Really? Can you show me?" she crawled across the grass, staining her new white dress.

"Certainly. Hold still, I need to focus on something." he concentrated on her. One day, he knew, they would be as Alice and Tarrant were, and he would wait. He would wait until the end of time if he had to.

His furry paws became well-cared for hands, and his body melted into the form of a handsome young man in his twenties. His attire was a blue and gray suit, much like Tarrant's. He himself didn't have much in the way of clothes, and figured the Hatter had good enough fashion sense not to be drab. Chessur's hair was short, cropped and combed, much like Chessur himself. He still had a toothy wide smile and teal eyes, slitted like his true self.

"You're perfect." Mira breathed. "Just like the you in my dream last night."

Chessur smiled wider than he ever had before. He was right to show her this form.

For the first time, he worried if he was good enough to keep her attention, to shine in her presence.


	39. Screams in the night, violet eyes

**N**ight washed over the castle as usual, but with so many different emotions swirling inside. Mira and Chessur were in the joyous time of budding love. Chessur didn't care how young she was. He would wait until Time keeled over dead for her. But Tarrant and Alice were worried. How could the madness have spread so fast? Would it affect the future? Should they ask Time about it? They went to bed quietly, subdued by stress and questions.

It was about three in the morning when they heard her. Alice bounded out of the bed at top speed, with Tarrant right at her heels. They tore open the doors and ripped into Mira's room. She was sobbing on Chessur's furry shoulder. Tarrant would have a talk with him about leaving Mira's room at night later. What was important know was Mira's emotional balance. Alice held her close and stroked her soft hair.

"What's wrong, Mira? What did you dream of?" she murmured into her niece's ear.

"The eyes!" Mira wailed. "The violet eyes!" The young girl looked up at Alice and put her small hands on either side of Alice's face. "He's near. He wants to hurt you. Kill the baby, and take you from Mr. Hatter Man. He wants to hurt everyone. He's worse than the madness, Aunty Alice. He IS the madness!"

"Shh, shh, Mira. All will be well." Alice wished she could know that for sure. She looked over to her Hatter.

He was even paler than usual, if that was ever possible. The fanciful colors of his eyes were that sick yellow, and his eyelids were white as well, something she had never seen before. Whatever Mira meant, it was significant to Tarrant, and it had him spooked. He tried to put on a brave face, and he encircled the two in his arms.

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen, Mira." he whispered to her. "I promise. And promises in Underland are important, so you know I'll keep it."

She seemed to smile at that, and they were able to put her back to bed. Tarrant gave a disapproving glance at Chessur, but Mira had already snuggled up next to the cat.

"You get away with it this time," he hissed at his smiling friend.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this one is so short, but it just fits with the story. Also, I'm back with more, and for those who love DC comics, I have lots for you to see!


	40. Significant looks and giggling doors

**T**he next day was a fast paced one. If they were going to return to England by Christmas, they had to leave straight after breakfast. Mira kept her face to her oatmeal, which was a curious shade of purple.

"Mira, what's wrong, dear?" Mirana furrowed her brow in worry. Mira just shook her head, and Alice rubbed her back affectionately.

"Mira is not coming with us to Aboveworld." Alice replied for the young girl.

"Why ever not?" the Queen was confused. Hadn't the little one been looking forward

to seeing her family?

"She's had some... bad experiences up there. Mira told me this morning that she would rather stay here with you and Chessur." Alice gave Mirana a significant look, one that could not be misinterpreted. Mirana understood at once, and nodded.

"Yes... that would probably be best under those... circumstances." She reached into her pocket and withdrew a bottle of cerulean liquid. "This is for your return. Whenever this 'Christmas' is over, you must come back. I don't know what that place will do to Tarrant. He doesn't deal with other people that well."

"No, he really doesn't," Alice agreed. It was just another trait of her Hatter that she loved.

"Are we ready to go, then?" Tarrant entered the room, fully dressed. He had eaten hours ago, a bag of jittery madness. Just the way Alice liked him.

"Yes." Alice tucked a knuckle under Mira's chin, and lifted her face to see her wide brown eyes. "Mira, you behave yourself. Do what the White Queen says, and always eat your vegetables. They taste like candy."

Tarrant looked at the scene with Mirana, both thinking of what a wonderful mother Alice will be in the coming years. She already cared for her niece with the love of a mother.

"Yes, Aunty Alice." Mira nodded, the hint of a smile playing on her soft lips. "I'll play with the Tweedles and have tea with Chessur."

"We'll be back soon." Tarrant gave her a hug goodbye. "And we'll miss you all the while."

"I'll miss you too, Mister Hatter Man." Mira hugged him back.

"Alright. Time to get to Aboveworld. This time, you will be using a more traditional way of travel. The rabbit's portal." the Queen smiled at them, her breathless voice carrying carefully on the air.

"Is it safe?" Alice raised an eyebrow. She seriously doubted it would be more fun going up than falling down.

"Yes. It's how you got here. You do still have that key, don't you?" Mirana looked at her pocket, knowing the answer. Alice had kept the key on her person at all times, making sure that she would always have a way here if she ever found herself in England again.

"Of course." Alice took the key out.

"That is your way to and from here. It will always lead to the door in my gardens." the Queen led the way to the wall where the door once was. "Sometimes you have to tickle it to get it to show up."

She ran a finger down the wall, and traced it back up. A giggling sound reverberated through the air, and the double doors shivered into view.

"I'll have to remember that," Alice tilted her head to the side, and Tarrant took her hand.

"Shall we go?" he asked, and her heart swelled. The kindness in his face was unmistakable, the peridot green of his eyes bright in the morning light.

"Yes." Alice took the key and unlocked the doors. They opened to reveal a bright white light, and they stepped through together.


	41. Memories best left forgotten, yet loved

**T**he hallway was just as Alice had left it, only now, the wallpaper on the walls was fresh and clean, a pretty shade of purple. A new key was sitting on the glass table, next to a pair of lace gloves and a fan. Alice pocketed these items for now, as they may become useful in the future.

Tarrant tried all the doors, but only one door would open. It was a maple shade, heavy from its thick cut. The brass knob was tarnished, and turned in his hand with a squeak. Obviously, the hallway was vastly improved, but still had a lot of work to go to be at its best.

The door opened to a room that was clearly abandoned for quite some time. Dust covered the floor, and on a barber's chair. Pictures of a beautiful woman and an infant laid cracked on the floor, where they had presumably fell awhile ago. Next to the door is a heavy chest, which smelled of old blood. Neither one of them were curious enough to examine it further. Alice caught sight of a lever next to the chair, and pulled it.

The chair tipped back into a trapdoor that appeared in the floor, which elicited a gasp from Alice.

"I know this place." She took the handkerchief Tarrant offered her and placed it over her nose. The stench of death invaded the room quickly. "This is the place of that demon barber mother told me about. Sweeny Todd." She looked crestfallen. "When I was very little, he would give my family haircuts. They were always perfect, and he was always kind to me. Soon after he had his daughter, he was sent away by the Judge Turpin. I never thought it was fair. As it turns out, he went crazy with revenge."

"Let's leave this place. It upsets you, I can see." Tarrant draped an arm around her lightly to steer her towards the door. He opened it, half expecting to see the hallway again, but found an outdoor staircase that led to an abandoned patio dining area. A tattered sign that read 'Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies' fluttered in the slight breeze that played under the dreary gray sky. It reminded Tarrant of Chawldon when he started to get his madness. He was depressed, then violent. He was still sharp, though. Probably because he was a barber, and not a hatter. Shaving cream does not have the same effect as mercury.

The air was still as polluted as it was before, but now a white cold fluff fell softly to the ground to join the rest of the substance. Tarrant was not used to the snow, and was fascinated to find that it melts and becomes water when warmth is added to it. He took to carrying a handful of it until it melted, then repeating the gesture. Alice found it to be maddening, as it made his hands unbearably cold, and she worried that he would get frostbite from his silliness.

The Christmas decorations were even more interesting to Tarrant. Like a small child, he pressed his face to almost every store window, not admiring the products, but the trees decorated with ornaments and garland. He was flabbergasted to see a giant tree in the middle of the town square. He spent a total of half an hour just walking around it, taking in all the adornments added to it. Alice found this sight to be the most precious.

"It's like the Habinling Day, almost." Tarrant mused as they finally started their way to the Kingsleigh estate. The windows were alight with soft light coming from the red candles in the window ledges. A wreath covered in pine cones and peppermints was hung on the door. Alice knocked on the door, and while they waited for the butler to answer the door, she turned her curiosity towards Tarrant's past comment.

"What's Habinling Day?" she looked up at him with her wide brown eyes.

"It's a day in which we decorate the forests, to thank them for their beauty. In return, they give us the seasons." He answered simply. "It's sometime in the Underland's equivalent to Spring."

"Oh." Alice was not quite satisfied with the answer, but the door was open, and the butler was looking irritated with her, so she decided that perhaps she should ask him later, once the holiday had been celebrated.

"Mother?" she called as the butler took her coat. Tarrant glared at him when he tried to take his hat.

"I'm in here," Helen called back from the living room. They entered to find the tree trimmed, and presents already covering the floor beneath it.

Helen looked towards the doorway to see them, and she hopped up from the wingback chair she was sitting in. "Oh, my darling girl!" she squealed as she hugged Alice tight. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, mother, though it feels like only a fortnight has happened between then and now." Alice rubbed her hand over her mother's back, soothing her mother's frantic heartbeat that she could feel through their hug.

She let go of her daughter and looked to Tarrant. "Oh, there's my future son-in-law!" she went to give him a hug as well, though Alice could tell he was not used to such warm greetings. "How are you doing in the Underland?"

"Fine. Mirana has adjusted well to the people, and found a close friend in Chessur." Tarrant smiled softly. He had quite the soft spot for the little one.

"She hasn't wanted to come back, has she?" Helen asked sadly. Alice shook her head. "No wonder. After the last night she had here…. I just don't blame her. Margaret and Lowell are coming over in an hour to open presents."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'the last night she had here'? I thought she was with us." Tarrant narrowed his eyes in suspicion, the color of them rapidly fading into a mustard yellow tinged with blue.

"It was while you two were in the Soul Bond ceremony. Lowell came over. He was drunk. He beat one of the maids, who was protecting her. From what she and the maid told me, there was another man with him. He claimed to be of your kin, Tarrant. He had apparently looked like you, except his-"

"-Blazing violet eyes." Tarrant finished for her. "Yes, that is my brother." He was paler than usual, his yellow eyes intensifying. The color drained from his face, and Alice had half a mind to retrieve smelling salts. "I don't know how he could have gotten here, though. Only queens and Champions can open the doors to the other portals here. The only way he could have been here, was if… Iracebeth had thrown him here after she claimed she beheaded him. Or, even worse, she could have given him a key. That kind of power is dangerous in his hands. I pray to any Deity listening that she did not."

"Well, we won't know until later." Alice soothed him with gentle words and caressed his face. He smiled in appreciation of her efforts, and let the subject drop.

"Now with that excitement out of the way, I think I should help Tarrant with the traditions of Christmas." Helen steered the hatter away, towards the mantle, where a stocking with his name on it was hanging next to the stocking Alice had used since she was six. His was a pea green, with a fuchsia polka dots. It matched Alice's in design, though hers was powder blue with white spots.

"Here, check what Santa brought you." Helen smiled kindly at him. Tarrant knew there was no Santa, but was elated all the same when he found a package of chocolate and a tin of mint tea, as well as a small box.

"What is this?" he asked, holding it up.

"Well I guess you'll just have to open it and see," Helen beamed. Alice rolled her eyes at her mother. Honestly, she always acted like this when it came to birthday and Christmas surprises. Tarrant ripped the parcel paper away to reveal a small, ornate, metal box. He carefully tipped the lid up on its hinges. His face split in a grin when music weakly trickled out of its hidden mechanism.

"Alice, it holds pictures of you, before we met!" he exclaimed, holding the box aloft for her to see.

It was true. The first was of her as a two year old with Margaret. Her frilly dress was billowed out around her, and her expression was confused. Margaret was a pretty four year old with a pouty expression. The second was of Alice with her father on her fourth birthday. They were on a dock. Her smile was brimming with eagerness, matching her father in enthusiasm. The third was taken when she was six. She was holding a tea cup at a small table, where she was wearing her silk top hat. It was her favorite piece of her dress up sets. Her smile had a big gap in the lower left corner, where she had just lost a tooth. This was taken a few months after her first visit to Underland. She remembered this picture. Her father had taken it himself, after she told him she was having brillig with a Mad Hatter, a March Hare, and a Dormouse, though she couldn't remember their names. Alice smiled at the memory.

The next few spanned over her adolescent years. Her with a teenage Hamish in the park, a smile on her face as she held a rabbit, disgust on his as he edged away from the animal in her arms. Her with her father pouring over maps, teaching her geography and his future business plans…. This was the last photo she ever saw of him before he died of sickness. The next was her in her black dress at his funeral, standing by the coffin. It was a candid picture, one she was not even aware of. She was facing the coffin, her hand tracing over the flowers on it. It was one of the few times she willingly put on stockings and a corset, out of respect for her father. The thought sent a pang of sadness through Alice as she handed the photographs back to Tarrant.

He looked at the last of the pictures, and knew why her eyes took on that grayish brown. Tarrant never asked her about her father, and he knew he wouldn't until she was good and ready to talk about him. His death may have been years ago, but the Hatter could tell it still heavily affected her. Tarrant placed the pictures back into the little music box and wrapped his arms around her as she silently sobbed. He hadn't noticed Helen had discreetly left to get some tea, but now he was grateful for it.

"It's alright, Alice." Tarrant whispered to her.

"No, it's not, Tarrant." She gasped as her shoulders shook violently against his chest. "I worry that you'll be like him; that you'll get sick and die young as well, before our children will get to know you."

"You don't have to worry. The madness is the only thing that can bring me down, and I will talk with Mirana. If I take on an apprentice, I won't have to succumb to it as quickly. I will be there for our children, Alice. I promise."

"Don't make a promise you don't know if you can keep." Alice warned, earning a chuckle from Tarrant.

"I know I can keep this one, Alice. I know I can." Tarrant ran his gently smiling lips over her blonde hair, and released her as the butler entered the room with Margaret and Lowell.


	42. A peaceful layer over sorrow

"Oh, great. The freak is here." Lowell scowled at the couple by the fireplace. "Helen, I don't know why you bother with these two. They're as odd as square wheels on a buggy."

"They are as normal as you or I, Lowell. They happen to be more interesting, is all." Helen countered. "Now, can we keep this civil? I would like a nice final Christmas with my daughters."

"Final Christmas? What's this about it being final?" Margaret picked up on the subtle insinuation. "We will always come home for Christmas."

"I know that darling, it's just that, well, I've not been feeling my best." Helen fiddled with a bit of lace on her dress as she sat in her chair. "And I'm not sure if I have another year left in me."

"That's ridiculous, Mother!" Alice exclaimed. "You look as healthy as ever, and your mind is as sharp as a knife!"

"I went to the doctor's office a few days ago," Helen stated quietly while Tarrant took Alice's hand in his own, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "They said it was the beginning of the consumption. Now I'm sure that I have a bit of time left in me, but just in case, I want a nice, peaceful Christmas. No more of this fighting! You four aren't going to be seeing much of each other after today, so you might as well be nice."

"Of course, mother." Alice smiled thinly.

They quietly drank their tea, then moved on to presents. Alice received a corset (which would go with all the other unworn ones in the drawer upstairs), a journal, and a blue sapphire locket from Margaret.

"For when you get married, it's your 'something blue'," she smiled at Alice. Even if she wasn't happy with whom she chose, Alice was still her sister, and she couldn't be completely cold to her forever.

Margaret received much the same, only of the more expensive variety, as her tastes reflected. Lowell received a big lump of coal from Alice and Helen, much to his chagrin.

"Behave better next year, and perhaps you will get better," Margaret chided, and he abruptly stood and left. She paled, knowing that the evening would not hold the same levity as this morning, not behind closed doors. She left soon after.

It was Tarrant who got the most interesting gifts. They included a new sash for his hat, new hatpins, a typewriter, and a new bright purple vest, which he put on over his old one immediately. Overall, it was a very successful Christmas, and that made Helen very happy. She figured everyone could use a little more happy.

**M**eanwhile in Underland, Mira was screaming in fear. Chessur was the first to answer her call, and was mortified at the scene before him. She was writhing on the floor, her face scrunched up in pain as she held her palms to her eyes.

"Don't let him take them, Chessur!" she screamed. "Don't let him take my eyes!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Thank you all for being so patient! My computer has been a boat anchor for the longest time, and the crash corrupted all of the data on my flash drive! But I was able to retrieve it all, thanks to my supermegaawesomefoxyhot friend, so I give you this! Happy Christmas or whatever else you celebrate (I've got friends who celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah, so I never assume that it's just one holiday anymore)!<p>

-HightoppsMadness


	43. Not a chapter, but important update!

QUICK UPDATE!

For those of you who keep track of my writing, all like, two of you, you know that this is my most popular fanfiction. WELL, let me tell you, this will not go on much longer. This story will end VERY soon, but do not cry! DO NOT CRY! :C This is book one! It's a series, and I have set points in the overall plot that I end on. I'm forewarning you all, so when I end this with a few unresolved things, you don't hunt me down and kill me in the face! The next book in the series will bring all these villains to the front, as this first book was just setting the stage. IT WILL BE DARKER. It will also not focus solely on Alice and Tarrant, but will have entire chapter arcs about Mira, Chessur, Mirana, and Time. There will also be character death, character injury, and seriously sad things.

I will not be putting this book up until I catch up with my other stories. I've been letting 'Re-stringing a Bow' fall to the wayside, and the readers for that one are starting to get antsy. And my poor Snape story hasn't been touched in a year, and I have five chapters built up on that one! The story I'm focusing on the most though, is my Deadpool one, 'Seems So Slow'. I'm also going to be working hard on my Rorschach one, 'Who Guards the Guardians', my Loki story 'Judas: A Tale of Such Sweet Sorrow', and my Abe Sapien story, 'The Dreaming.' Hope you guys like comic books, too. Because I'm about to spam your inbox with updates.

For those of you who don't, might I suggest my Hunger Games story, or better yet, another Alice in Wonderland story, since all of mine are practically comic book stories! Oh! And how can I forget? I'm starting some raw drafts of a fanfiction for Star Trek: The Next Generation for Data, and a little something for Captain America. Loki is still better, though :P.

Alrighty, then. I think that covers everything. It's 4:30 A.M. where I live right now, so imma go to bed, since I have my awesome night cap on, and I finally found my missing thimble.

Love to all of you,

HightoppsMadness


	44. A storm is coming

The trip home to Underland was as eventful as ever, using the rabbit hole instead of the opal or a looking glass. The couple was exhausted, but it was not going to get any easier. The white castle was bustling with activity, though not for a joyous occasion. Alice quickly caught snippets of conversation between the maids and the guards.

"She's at least stopped screaming-"

"Poor dear, I hope she's all right."

"I heard Chessur was the first to find her-"

"Something about stealing her eyes?"

Instantly, the blood in her veins turned to ice, and she ran to where the activity was, with Tarrant running after her. Their gifts were left, forgotten in the realization of what was going on.

"Mira! Mira, I'm coming, sweetling!" Alice cried, feeling as if she were aging with every step. Her bones felt like lead, and her mind felt like it would melt and pour from her ears from all the pressure her fear gave it.

Tarrant, for all his strength, agility, and fitness, could not keep up with her. He worried, that was for sure, but his heart was not as frantic. Nothing could compare to the frantic pace of her footsteps, racing to get to, for all intents and purposes, her child.

Bursting into the infimiry like a demon from hell itself, she laid eyes upon her little Mira, laid amongst the cushions and linens of the large, comfy bed. Nurses had placed small bandages just under her eyes, where her nails had bit into the skin during her panic attack and drew blood. The child looked up at her, clutching her Cheshire doll, and let fat tears trail down her face. And just like that, Alice was there, holding her close and whispering comfort to her. Tarrant soon joined them, completing the family trio.

"Someone's coming, Aunty Alice. Someone bad. He's going to try and hurt you, and he's going to take my eyes..."

**End of book One. **

**Yes, I realize that it took a LONG time for this to come up. I was silly and locked myself out of my account. But, now that I'm on summer vacation, and I can get back on here, I will be working on book Two sooner than later. **


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